The Laws of Thermodynamics
by SunMonTue
Summary: Dave is a nerd/geek, he's smart, and he just wants to survive highschool. Kurt is a popular Cheerio in desperate need of a tutor to boost his gpa.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note**: So, this was a prompt on the GKM, but I suck at filling those, so it's an unofficial fill. Also, I am a geek/nerd etc. I have played WoW, DnD and also done LARP. (That's how I met my husband). I enjoy Star Trek and Star Wars, and SGU and a whole range of things. My friends were (and still are) the weirdly dressed people at movie premiers. I wouldn't change it.

**WARNING**: Seriously AU. Blainofsky friendship. This is an AU people - Alternate Universe.

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**The Laws of Thermodynamics**

**PART ONE**

He passes under the radar, and that's his intention. Look normal and boring, completely uninteresting. He likes to think he does a pretty good job, and okay, there are geeky t-shirts under his button-downs, but he just wants to survive high school. And to do that he needs to not garner the attention of the jocks. Even when they do look his way he's lucky that he's large enough that they don't mess with him. Blaine isn't so lucky and he comes to a halt beside his friend's locker and makes a sympathetic face.

"Dumpster?"

"Yeah. Better than a slushy though. At least I can pick the bits off."

He nods in agreement but holds back a sigh. He tries to walk around with Blaine, but he's a junior and Dave's a senior, so their schedules don't mesh well. Sam's usually there though and he turns to look for him, knowing they're generally found together and scrunches his face in sympathy as Sam approaches. He's today's slushy victim. Blaine pulls out a towel and some baby wipes, setting about helping Sam clean up, and Dave tries not to snicker at Sam's slightly put-upon expression.

"I don't get it, why waste good slushy?" As says, and he's holding one in his hand and he shivers, because he's not a fan of the icy-cold drink. Az drinks at least two a day and he's convinced his friend must have multi-colored insides. Az is another reason why he probably doesn't get bullied, having a member of the wrestling team as one of your best friends can't hurt. The warning bell rings and he hears Sam mutter about changing his shirt and turns down Blaine's further offers of help. He has AP Physics now, a class he shares with Lucy and Sam, and it's a _small_ class with only seven of them.

"Game still on tonight?" Az asks and he nods, because the game is on _every_ Wednesday night, but Az insists on asking every Wednesday afternoon regardless. He gets a fist bump as Az heads off for a training session and he sees the flash of red and automatically steps to the side, unintentionally shielding Blaine and Sam from sight and easy access by the swarm of Cheerio uniforms and letterman jackets. He ignores the looks, pretends the turned up noses and snide curl of lips don't mean anything, and he knows in ten years they really won't, but right now they're another thing he has to suffer through and he has to pretend it doesn't bother him.

There's only one Cheerio he even spares a second glance for, and it's purely superficial and shallow, but Kurt Hummel in his Cheerio uniform has to be one of the hottest sights to ever grace the halls of McKinley. There are other male cheerleaders, and Mike Chang definitely has some moves, but he and Tina Cohen-Chang are constantly making out, so he's pretty sure he's straight. Unlike Kurt Hummel, who makes no apologies for his sexuality, and that's probably some of the attraction, although he feels nothing at all for Blaine and he makes no apologies either.

The mass of students has moved and thinned out, and Lucy is standing beside him, eyes bright and he grins, flinging an arm around her shoulders while Sam mutters about eau de slushy and they head to class.

**TLOT**

He sets up the monsters on a grid table around the minature-figures of the party, half-listening as Blaine waxes lyrical about Kurt Hummel's performance at assembly that morning. He has to admit that it was an _impressive _performance and he makes small humming sounds of agreement as Blaine talks. Kurt Hummel is indeed very flexible. He's among friends, they all know he's gay but they care far more about how much experience the battle he's setting up is going to give them then who wants to have sex with.

"He's _hot_. So hot. _Supernova_ hot," Blaine says, and he's clearly running out of adjectives because he just used _hot_ three times and he's just about to point that out when Az interrupts.

"Can you guys not talk about other guys right now? It's kind of ruining the mood," Az mutters, eyeing up the large Ice Giant Dave has just placed sixty feet from his character.

"Sure, anyway, pretty package doesn't always mean a pretty person inside…" Dave replies, and he knows firsthand that Kurt Hummel has a tongue that could cut ice. While Blaine and Sam might get tossed in dumpsters or have slushies thrown at them he's been on receiving end of a Kurt Hummel rant. Being called fat, ugly and a waste of space in front of a half-filled cafeteria hadn't done his ego any good, and the fact that he still finds the guy attractive despite being belittled and publicly humiliated like that makes him more angry at himself than anything else. He sighs and checks his book and then the layout before turning to Mercedes.

"Since you failed your spot and listen checks there's going to be a surprise round. The rest of you are still asleep."

His announcement is met with a round of groans and he grins. He loves screwing with them. The six of them meet up and play twice a week, and have been since middle school when he and Az had found Blaine trying to play Magic by himself, Blaine, who looks like he still belongs in Middle School. Lucy has been his lab partner for over three years now, and she's one of the few people he'd consider an intellectual equal. He's pretty sure Mercedes is only here because she's interested in Az. Or Sam. He's not sure sometimes, but he's pretty sure if either of them were smart enough to look beyond her latest crazy outfit and ask her out they'd suddenly have a girlfriend. Neither of them are that type of smart though, and neither of them listen to him. Dumbasses.

"Mmm, shame about Hummel though. We could use his voice in Glee Club."

"Luce, focus," Dave states, and he really doesn't need another of his friends starting up the Kurt Hummel is hot chorus. He starts moving the monsters, rolling dice and distracting them with the possible impending death of their characters.

**TLOT**

"David, can I have a word?"

He pauses by Mr Mallory's desk, wondering what his math and physics teacher has to say to him.

"I was just wondering whether you'd be interested in some tutoring."

"Oh. Do you think I need it?" He hadn't thought he was struggling at all; in fact he's been helping Sam and Lucy with the latest section, to be offered tutoring…

"No! Not for you. I meant, someone is in need or a tutor, and I immediately thought of you. Don't think I haven't noticed you helping out Sam and Lucy."

"Oh. I… sure. I'm happy to help."

His eyes widen when Mr Mallory mentions getting paid for it, and he shakes his head, because he hadn't even thought about that, although it'd help him get towards his saving goal for ComicCon that little bit faster. He writes down his contact details and hands them over, thanking him for thinking of him before he heads to lunch.

The entire week following he's not contacted, and he figures whoever it is has found someone else, which is fine, but the extra money would have been nice. His parents are only willing to fund his obsessions to a certain point. His life is pretty monotonous really, but he's probably one of the few people that like it that way. Doesn't mean he can't wait to be out of school though, and he's already applied to several Universities.

He's in the library when the sense of being watched makes the hairs on his neck prickle and he looks around carefully. Not the he suspects an ambush, but it wouldn't be the first time Blaine has tried to spy on his campaign plans using binoculars. He folds the campaigns book shut and slides it under some of his other books and then his field of vision is red and white and he knows who is standing in front of him right now. Kurt Hummel.

"Karofsky right?"

He nods, because he doesn't trust himself to speak. Well, speak and not sound like he's going through a second puberty.

"Apparently you can tutor me. Finally a use for you. And a bonus for you, you get to be seen with me."

Dave studies him and just like that the feeling of awe is gone. He shakes his head, because yeah Kurt Hummel might be nice to look at, but he's not sure he's ever said a nice word to anyone. He starts packing his bag, sliding his books and laptop in.

"You're going to have to find someone else to be of use to you. I don't need to waste my time, and I definitely don't need the money badly enough to sit around getting insulted. Good luck passing."

It feels quite liberating, saying the words, but his whole body feels like its shaking and he needs to get out of here before he throws up and proves it's all just an act. He stands up, forcing Hummel to take a step back. He's taller than him by a couple of inches, which is surprising but he doesn't have time to think about it right now. He just needs to get out of there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**: No idea how long this will be. I was thinking as many chapters as there are actual laws of thermodynamics, but then realized that would be unrealistic (there are only 4 laws that I know of, although I last studied physics 15 years ago so I'm a bit rusty).

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**PART TWO**

Another week slips by, he kills off Sam's character in the game and rolls his eyes when Mercedes' character insists on a proper burial. Out of sheer boredom he rolls a random encounter and manages to kill off Az's character as well. Seeing as Sam was the healer in the party they really shouldn't have wasted time in monster infested wasteland burying him when they needed to get back to town and get another healer or risk total party death.

They have a sleepover, something that all their parents have battled to overcome, with there being two gay boys, two straight boys and then the two girls, occasionally three if they feel like inviting Brittany. A compromise of everyone in the same room in sleeping bags, which they've been doing for four years now, and it works. He and Az pull the mattresses of his bed and the queen in the guest room and fold out the sofa bed in the den, and the room becomes a giant bed.

He listens to age-old arguments between Az and Blaine about Star Wars and Star Trek respectively, which one is better and discusses with Sam the most creative ways to kill them and make it look like an accident. Sam is an Avatar fan, so he doesn't get involved, although there have been three way arguments. He learnt the hard way that there's no compromise, saying they were both equally good had earned him a week of no talking from Az and two weeks from Blaine. Drama queen.

He sits in the library after school the next day, the librarian and he have an understanding, and he's sat at the same desk since his first day as a freshman when he worked out his strategy to become semi-invisible. As high school experiences go he knows it could have been a lot worse, and now that he's on the home stretch he feels he can finally relax a bit. Being a senior means even those considered the bottom feeders are above the younger years. In theory. Those in his year would still give him shit if he appeared weak, which is why he has mastered his mask of indifference. A cough causes him to look up, and like last week Hummel is standing in front of him and he ignores the synchronized flips his heart and stomach perform.

"Can we talk?"

"Are you going to insult me again?" Dave replies. Hummel's posture and tone all scream _attack_ and he can't help but feel defensive in response.

"Look, I'm… _sorry_ about before, but I really do need a tutor."

"Yeah, if that apology didn't sound like it was forced from you with a pair of pliers I might feel more inclined to believe you. Still not interested." He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the automatic _sorry_ from slipping out, but he manages it.

"Look, I'll make it worth your while."

His mind goes a dozen dirty places before he shakes his head, clearing the images.

"I seriously doubt that. I think you're probably best to talk to Mr Mallory and ask about finding another tutor."

"I tried that. He said you would be my best bet at passing."

Hummel looks annoyed by that fact but he feels a little thrill that Mr Mallory seems to think so highly of him. He lets out a sigh and pushes the chair opposite out with his foot, inviting him to sit down, although he knows with his crossed arms and scowl he probably looks the opposite of welcoming. Not that Hummel looks any happier to be there. How they're meant to manage to be civil enough to each other enough for some learning to happen he has no idea, but he kind of doesn't want to disappoint Mr Mallory.

He asks him what classes he's in, only to learn that he needs math help as well as the general sciences, not just physics. It's because he's so strong across all areas he's been recommended by three separate teachers. Hummel's gpa is borderline getting kicked off the Cheerios, in fact, he probably should have already been kicked off, if Coach Sylvester didn't rule Figgins with an iron fist. He wonders if Hummel is aware of how much time they'll actually need to spend together…

"I think we should trial this out for a week or two. I mean, there's no guarantee I'll be able to teach you anything –"

"I'm not stupid," Hummel snaps and he huffs in annoyance.

"I didn't imply you were, but I've never tried tutoring before, I might suck at it."

"Oh. Right."

He holds back a roll of eyes, wondering if Hummel is always this defensive or whether he's getting special treatment. Hummel asks if he minds coming to his place to tutor him, muttering about an overprotective father and he shrugs. Anywhere where they won't be interrupted works, and the library doesn't work, not if he's going to constantly be talking. He hears a squeak than and turns. Blaine is standing there, eyes wide, pathetically soppy grin on his face and hand clutching his shirt over his heart as if he's trying to stop it bursting through his chest like in something out of Alien. He rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers in front of his friends face, noting Hummel's narrowed eyes looking between the two of them.

"Blaine! Blaine!" Blaine's attention snaps to him and he shoots him a knowing smirk. "You want a ride home?"

"Yeah. I'll uh… choir room. Glee. Yeah."

"Cool. I'll see you there later…"

They watch as Blaine backs away in reverse, almost knocking into two separate people as they enter the library. He shakes his head, Blaine can be such a dork, in a completely adorable puppy-dog way.

"He's something of a fan of yours…" Dave mutters.

"Well, who can blame him? I am fabulous."

He snorts at that, because while he doesn't disagree in some regards, he should have expected Hummel to have no sense of modesty.

"I get that you and Lucy Fabray are all loved up –"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't interrupt me!" Hummel snaps, eyes flashing. "I get that you're all loved up, and ignore everyone else, but just because two guys might show an interest in each other does not make it a point of ridicule!"

"I…" he starts, and he doesn't know what to say, where to start, because there are so many things he could say, although two things are blatantly obvious; Hummel thinks he and Lucy are an item, which by default means he has no idea that he's gay. Which makes sense, he's only come out to his closest friends and family anyway, but… "Are you interested in Blaine?"

"Uh… no. He's not exactly my type," Hummel mutters, eyes sliding to the side and he actually looks a bit flustered, which is a first and he wonders what's caused it.

"Oh. Right. Well, that's probably for the best, he'd probably pass out if you spoke to him directly."

"He's a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, one of my best friends. So don't go thinking I have issues with your sexuality. I don't. Trust me. But I'm not going out with Lucy either. We're just friends." It's been a while since he's had to reiterate that to someone, but it comes back easily, as do the memories of his mom desperately clinging to the idea that she's somehow his secret girlfriend. He's been out to his parents for four years now, known for six, meeting Blaine confirming it. Not because he's attracted to him at all, because they're best friends, and it would be like being attracted to Az, but Blaine had made him realize the possibilities. That he wasn't alone.

"Oh. That's… nice?"

"Hmm. Yeah. Whatever. So. should I just come to your place after school tomorrow?"

"Yes. That sounds like a plan. No game tomorrow night. I have practice lunches Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and after school Tuesday and Thursday, and then whenever the games are. So, could we start with three afternoons a week? Two hours each afternoon? I'm kind of behind…"

Kind of behind is something of an understatement, and he only have one afterschool club, Mathletes, which meet on a Tuesday, so it works surprisingly well. He shrugs and asks Hummel to enter his contact details into his phone and hopes Blaine doesn't steal the information to send overly creepy text messages.

"Oh, wait. My dad will want to meet you first," Hummel says, looking embarrassed again. "Do you mind stopping by his garage first? It's Hummel Tire and Lube."

"No problem. I'll look up the address. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow," he states, and he figures Hummel has better places to be than sitting in a library talking to him but he can't help but notice the tightening around Hummel's mouth as he draws back and stands up.

"Oh, right. Of course. You're probably busy studying, maintaining that perfect gpa."

"That perfect gpa is going to try and stop you ass from having to repeat senior year and getting kicked off your precious Cheerios so if you could drop the attitude it would be a good start…"

He looks up into eyes that are very clearly angry, and he feels like he should care more, but he really can't find it in himself to care.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note**: I read the prompt again, and as there is something there which I don't like I'm never going to make this an official fill. Sorry to the original prompter.

Also, this story will be written solely from Dave's POV. There might be a point when I write a companion fic with Kurt's POV. Just a head's up because I've already got a bit written for Kurt.

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**PART THREE**

The next morning at school he's ignored, although for the first time since school started for the year Blaine doesn't get thrown in a dumpster or have a slushy-shower. He wonders if Hummel has said something, because the opportunity was definitely there and ignored. In fact they all seem to get ignored, and it has them all slightly on edge when they discuss it over lunch. They all agree that they seem to be getting indifference, which is much preferable, but it feels odd, almost like they've become an invisible little subset of the school population.

"Wouldn't it be cool to be invisible though? Definitely the best super power to have," Sam says. Mercedes is already shaking her head.

"No. Mind reading. That would be cool."

"Pfft. Super strength."

"You're pretty much half-way there already Zee…" Dave states, and everyone laughs.

"I'd love to be a shape shifter. Like Mystique," Lucy says wistfully.

"Pretty blue lady…" Sam says, winking, before turning to Mercedes. "Trust me, you wouldn't want mind reading in a high school filled with teenage boys."

"Hey! Girls have those type of thoughts too!" Lucy interjects and Sam grins, eyes lighting up.

"Maybe mind reading wouldn't be so bad then." They all laugh again.

"Super speed. That's what I'd want. Or maybe flying. No wait, laser eyes like Cyclops. Yeah. No. Super intellect. Wait. Could I fly and set stuff alight?"

"It's a good thing you'll never actually have to choose huh?" Dave teases, grinning and reaching over to ruffle Blaine's wild curls, because his eyes have gone wide in frantic need to make a decision and he glares back at him.

"Like you could choose only one."

"Easy. Time control. The ability to travel through time, and also freeze time for everyone else. Yep. I'd rock it so bad… and go back and meet a couple of scientists while I was at it."

"Dude, you're such a geek…" Az mutters, rolling his eyes and Dave laughs, leaning over and punching him in the shoulder.

"Yeah, you love it."

"I'd love it more if you didn't kill of my character every couple of months."

"Try giving it a higher intelligence next time and maybe it'll survive."

"Ha fucking ha," Az replies, standing with his tray. He's grinning though, so he knows he's been forgiven for killing off his character. Out of all of them Az likes creating new characters the most so he feels the less guilt about killing them. Unlike Mercedes who draws pictures and creates entire pictorial wardrobes for her characters. He's always fudged a couple of rolls when it comes to hitting her character because last time she'd actually cried.

**TLOT**

Burt Hummel is not what he expected and he looks around the garage just incase there's someone else that possibly fits the bill. Nope. The fact that the guy walking towards him has a little patch with the name _Burt_ embroidered on it is pretty much a clincher.

"Hi, I'm David Karofsky… uh," he pauses, and he can't exactly call Hummel _Hummel_ to his dad. "I'm going to be tutoring Kurt?" He sticks his hand out to shake, like his dad taught him to do when meeting new people. It's waved away and a grease covered hand is held up in explanation.

"Don't want you getting grease on your hands. Right. Yeah. He said you'd be stopping by. You're not exactly what I was expecting…"

He feels like responding with a _ditto_, or _likewise_ but instead smiles and shrugs, wondering what he expected exactly. He's dressed in his usual clothes of jeans, long sleeved polo, one with a Superman logo on it today, over which he's wearing a short sleeved check shirt. His glasses are thin wire-rimmed ones he's had since middle-school and his hair is longer than he usually wears it, mainly because he's been ignoring his mom's pleas for him to get it cut.

"So, about Kurt… you know he's gay?"

He blinks, because of all the things to be asked, that hadn't been something that had crossed his mind. He'd expected questions about his GPA and any previous tutoring experience. Not this.

"Uh, no offence sir, but it's kind of hard to miss."

"Hmm," Mr Hummel says, as if conceding he has a point. "That okay with you?"

"Uh, that would be highly hypocritical of me if it wasn't…" he starts, and then wonders whether coming out to Kurt Hummel's dad is the wisest move and stops, frozen for a moment while he considers what to say next.

"You too huh?"

"Hmm? What sorry?" He asks, snapping his head up from studying the oil-stained concrete while trying to figure out what to say.

"You too? Gay?"

"Uh…" _What the hell?_

"It's okay if you are. Although, are you interested in my son at all?"

He feels his mouth open in shock and then he snaps it shut and shakes his head automatically.

"Sir, Mr Hummel, there would never be anything between Kurt and I. Opposite ends of the food chain. Even if we did like each other nothing would happen. He's a Cheerio. Also, he doesn't know I'm gay, so if you could uh, not tell him?" He asks hopefully, and he wishes like hell he could take back half of what he just said, but he's crap at lying when faced with parental figures.

"Okay, I won't tell him. But what do you mean opposite ends of the food chain?"

"Uh. I'm a geek. My size stops me being picked on physically but it doesn't stop the name calling."

Mr Hummel's eyes narrow and he feels like he's being weighed, measured and considered. It has to be one of the most nerve wracking experiences to date, and he's already had a couple of interviews for college.

"Has Kurt called you names?"

He opens his mouth to answer and promptly snaps it shut, eyes darting to the side and he shakes his head. He's not telling Hummel's dad on him. That would ruin any possibility of them being able to be civil to each other. He looks up to the hard pinched mouth and cold eyes of Burt Hummel and he's suddenly terrified of him, because he's reminded of a mother lion protecting it's cub and he swallows nervously.

"It was nice meeting you David. Thank you for agreeing to tutor Kurt. I'll see you around."

He's clearly being dismissed and he smiles tightly, turning to leave.

"David! One more thing, I won't tell him anything about you. But I will be having a talk to him."

He closes his eyes and cringes, because he can't see that going well _at all_.

**TLOT**

They don't kill each other, which he knows is over dramatic, but they don't end up screaming at each other either, which is nothing short of a miracle. He figures out what Hummel's aptitude is and what areas need work by going through his previous tests, essays and assignments. Hummel sits and sullenly watches him, as if it's somehow _his_ fault that he needs tutoring.

He figures he probably needs to start with the basics in most subjects and he outlines his idea of three ninety-minute sessions a week to start with, saying they can increase of decrease the time as needed. Hummel is amazingly agreeable, although he's pretty sure he's pissed about something and the only thing he can think it is, is the fact he needs a tutor. He'd reassure him if he felt it would be received well and instead just keeps his mouth shut in that regard. He's walked to the front door and he nods in farewell.

"See you Monday."

"Looking forward to it," Hummel replies, smiling so falsely sweet it sets his teeth on edge.

"Oh yeah, me too."

When the door slams shut the instant he's cleared the threshold he has to remind himself of the steady income and that he would actually be doing him a favor, regardless of how badly the favor is being received. He sighs and heads for Blaine's place. It's his turn to host everyone for dinner and their monthly board game night and he just hopes that they can improve his mood.


	4. Chapter 4

**PART FOUR**

He has an awesome weekend. He manages to convince Sam and Blaine to throw a Frisbee around the front lawn of Blaine's house. Lucy and Mercedes watch, yelling at them to put their shirts back on because of the blindingly white skin they're all sporting. They ignore them, although Sam looks a bit self-conscious. He just starts aiming Frisbees at them on purpose to get them annoyed enough to retaliate. Az turns up after his training session and they end up lazing about for a few hours before Lucy insists they study. He's the only one that doesn't let out a moan of complaint. He _likes_ studying, figuring out the answers to things and the satisfying feeling of doing his schoolwork well. On Sunday he does the yard work for his parents, not something he enjoys, but it keeps his parents off his back long enough so he can play World of Warcraft for a good solid chunk of the afternoon without them harping on about getting outside and enjoying the fine weather.

Monday at school is a repeat of Friday, Blaine and Sam both go untouched, which has the opposite effect. Instead of calming Blaine down it's made him jittery and nervous, expecting an attack from around every corner and he's half tempted to empty a slushy on his head just to calm him down. He passes Hummel in the hallway a couple of times, and he's met with either a cold stare or a slightly annoyed frown. Overall feigned indifference, which is more than fine with him. When he pulls up outside Hummel's house for the Monday session he lets out a sigh and psyches himself up. He doesn't know if Hummel's going to be verbally combative again, but he hopes not, because it makes the whole experience so much more exhausting than it needs to be. It's not his fault Hummel needs his help.

He knocks on the door and when Hummel opens it he does a little double-take. He figured the guy must own clothes other than his Cheerios uniform, but seeing him in skinny jeans and a t-shirt tight enough to be painted on reminds him again that Hummel is _hot_. Now, if he had a personality to match he knows he'd be a goner, but fortunately Hummel opens his mouth and brings him plummeting back to reality.

"Let another torture session begin…"

He holds back a sigh and smiles tightly, stepping inside when Hummel begrudgingly steps to the side. He heads for the dining room table, the same place they studied last time and there are no books out and he frowns.

"Are we studying or not?"

"I thought we could study in my room."

"Uh, I'd rather not," he replies, wondering what Burt Hummel would think of that.

"I'm not going to attack you or anything."

"What?" Dave asks, confused, because while Hummel might be almost as tall as him, and all lean muscle, Dave is still taller and bigger. Plus he's used to wrestling with Az so the idea of Hummel trying anything is laughable.

"_Nothing_," Hummel snaps, looking angry like he's somehow committed an unforgivable sin and he snaps back.

"Look, it's not my fault you need a tutor. If you could drop the attitude I'm pretty sure it would actually help with you learning something. _Anything_."

He can _see_ the muscles in Hummel's jaw clench, then his shoulders sag and he lets out a long breath, almost a sigh.

"You're right. Sorry. I'll just go and get my books."

He settles himself down at the table and wonders how long this subdued act will last. He was serious though, the attitude he has isn't doing him any favors, and he's never tried tutoring someone who seems not only unwilling, but annoyed that they need help. Years ago, when he first started helping Lucy, she was like a sponge, asking questions he didn't know the answer to, and it's a study method they've used successfully for years. They feed of each other, and he gets why people always mistake them for a couple.

Hummel comes back, satchel bag slung over his shoulder and he pulls his books out, sorting them into subject areas like a small wall between them. Last Friday they'd sat side by side, which is really the only way when you're reading from a book, or writing something that the other person needs to read. He rolls his eyes and moves to the other side of the table, scooting his chair closer so he can reach the books and his own bag.

"I'm not going to attack you either," Dave states, pulling Hummel's homework toward him. Hummel mutters something under his breath, which _sounds_ like _'I wish'_ but he knows he can't have heard all of it. More like he's wishing Dave didn't have to be there at all. He scans over the homework, and it's nearly all wrong, which is what he'd expect considering they need to start from the basics. He's brought his old text books with him, the ones from previous years, and he hopes they can prove useful.

He starts of really small, hoping he's not insulting Hummel's intelligence, but when he asks for clarification on a point he knows he's got the level exactly right. He goes slow, gets him to work on a couple of equations after working through a couple of examples and grins as he watches, because it's instant gratification, seeing him pick it up so quickly. He suspects Hummel simply doesn't pay enough attention in class, or has neglected his homework so long, and fallen so far behind he had no way of getting out of the hole he found himself in.

The time passes surprisingly quickly, and he knows math and physics are going to have to be a part of every session, simply because of how far behind he is. He's discovered Hummel seems to have an aptitude for biology, but a couple of areas have tripped him up. Same with chemistry. He notices that if the assignment involves doing something Hummel passes with no problems, and it seems that if Hummel can _apply_ the information he's learning then he also seems to grasp it really quickly. It's the theoretical stuff which is proving problematic, but now that he's narrowed it down he's pretty sure he can come up with some scenarios which will help him apply the theory so that Hummel can get it.

"So I guess I'll see you back here on Wednesday."

_Wednesday_. He freezes in the midst of packing his bag and pulls a face. Game night. When he usually spends the afternoon setting up the table and game room, organizing character sheets and planning out some encounters. Ones they generally seem to avoid anyway, but he still spends a good chunk of time reading through the campaign. The others turn up at half-past five, after their respective after-school activities, they eat dinner and then play until nine thirty. Later if they can get away with it. It's not like they're out raising hell, so their parents are all pretty forgiving.

"What? Can you suddenly not make Wednesdays?"

"Uh… I didn't even think about it. It's fine. I'll be here. Actually, just this week do you mind maybe coming to my place instead?"

Hummel looks surprised but shrugs.

"Sure. You'll need to text me your address."

"Yeah, of course. Thanks. I just need to move some furniture around and stuff. My friends come around every Wednesday, but not until after we'll be done."

"Okay. Well, I'll see you on Wednesday then."

Dave nods, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and he notes that Hummel seems to be prepared to completely ignore the fact that they'll actually see each other in school tomorrow, but he's more than happy with being ignored if it means they can have a sort of uneasy truce.

"Cool. See you Wednesday."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note**: This is an AU. Just reminding you so I don't get railed at for making Dave's mom nice. Thanks to my friends on tumblr helping me with some lingo. Not many of you would know what Duraseal is.

* * *

**PART FIVE**

His parents know he's tutoring of course. His dad mumbled about saving for college but his dad talks about saving a lot. On Wednesday he rushes home and tries to get the majority of the furniture moving done early and his mom watches, clearly amused but not offering to help. She does go and answer the door when the bell rings though, and he hears Hummel introduce himself and she invites him in, and then Kurt Hummel is standing in his house. His mom stands behind Kurt, hand waving to catch his attention before winking and giving him a thumbs up. He barely stops his eye roll. After her failure to pair him with Lucy, and then Blaine she clearly has her sights now set firmly on Kurt Hummel. _Brilliant._ There's supportive, and there's obsessed.

He smiles tightly and waves his mom off, knowing she'll be back with milk and cookies, because apparently he's still in elementary. And she's nosy. God he hopes he never dates while still in Lima, it would be painful in every way to watch his mom give anyone the eleventh degree. In college he can _warn_ the guy that his mom can be slightly… weird. He jerks his head in the direction of the table and waves toward one of the chairs.

"Have a seat."

Hummel nods his head sharply and he wonders if he'll be any more polite here than at his own house. There does seem to have been a slight lessening of hostility, but it's morphed into quiet watchfulness which is somehow more worrying. He turns to grab his books out, both those for doing his homework, and the DnD ones he can flick through and bookmark the necessary pages. Next week he'll prepare well in advance.

"What's this table for?"

He turns to find Hummel running a finger over the inch-grid covered table and the clear contact paper covering it. It's his gaming table, and he doesn't really want to give Hummel anymore reasons to mock his geekery but he shrugs, it's not like he's trying to impress the guy and he's pretty sure Hummel's opinion of him can't get any lower.

"It's for Dungeons and Dragons. I run a game and I draw on the table. It might help when I explain a couple of things," he adds, realizing what he's said is true. It might actually come in useful, and fortunately it's been wiped clean from the previous combat he had mapped out. Hummel looks at him blankly like he's spoken an even more foreign language than chemistry or physics before shaking his head and sliding his books out of his bag. He notes the brightly colored tabs sticking out and wonders if Hummel's actually done some work of his own accord. He'd suggested it, but didn't expect him to actually do it.

"So, Dave, do you mind if I call you Dave?"

"I… _what_?"

"It's your name isn't it?" Hummel snaps and he raises his eyebrows, and he knows the look on his face is probably the one Mercedes has nicknamed '_Hold up'_. He doesn't get why Hummel is snapping at him. "For a guy that's meant to be smart you sure are stupid sometimes."

"It's not like we're friends. Why do you want to call me Dave?" Hummel looks annoyed for some reason and he just doesn't get it. Fuck, he's probably going to be as terrible with guys as he would be with girls. Some people will just never make sense to him. He lets out a long sigh. "Look, if you want to call me Dave go ahead, it's better than other things you could call me."

Hummel rolls his eyes at him and he's pretty sure he's somehow pissed him off but can't bring himself to care. It's like a symbiotic relationship, he's the shark and Hummel is the little pilot fish. Although at school it's definitely the other way around. He snorts and decides to ignore his completely illogical thought processes and sets about taking Hummel through some of the exercises, surprised that he's picked up on the biology surprisingly fast.

He hadn't been lying when he said he wasn't stupid, and at least where biology is concerned he's pretty sure he's actually being an effective tutor. The proof will be in quiz results, and he has no idea when Hummel will next be getting quizzed. Putting a time limit of just a week was probably a little rash, he probably needs a month to see whether he can make any headway on the material Hummel has fallen behind on. He sighs and starts in on the math problems, pointing out the steps he's missed, or where he's gone wrong. What he'd previously thought was annoyance at _him_ is, he's pretty sure, is actually more annoyance at himself, that he can't seem to grasp the material. He feels more patient after that realization, remembering years ago his own frustration before it all just seemed to slot into place.

Blaine arrives early as usual, and he can tell from the little '_meep'_ that he emits and the clattering sound of him retreating when he sees Hummel. Or the back of his head at least. He lets out a huff of amusement as he glances behind him and then back at Hummel, and he's grinning at Blaine's absolute adorableness around Kurt Hummel. Heaven forbid Blaine thinks the guy is human. Or somehow imperfect.

"Who was that?"

"Blaine. You know, the president of your fan club."

"I have a fan club?"

He snorts, because he'd been _joking_, but Hummel's eyes have gone wide as if he thinks it's actually a possibility. He shakes his head, amused.

"Yeah, with one member. _Blaine_."

"_Oh_."

He frowns, because weirdly Hummel looks _hurt_ by the comment and he wonders whether he should say something, to correct his impression that he was somehow making fun of him when he was really poking fun at Blaine's obsession. Nah. Hummel can do with being brought down a peg or two. They keep working, and he can hear Blaine starting to sing, and he wonders if he can somehow give Blaine's character, an elven bard, laryngitis.

"Kurt wasn't it? Did you want to stay for dinner? There's plenty."

"Thanks, but my dad's expecting me home for dinner."

"Maybe next week then," his mom states, and it's so clearly a question he wants to take off his socks and shove them both in her mouth. He doesn't want his Wednesday nights intruded upon anymore than they already are and he tries glaring at her, using his non-existent mind control to get her to just _go away._

"Maybe," Hummel replies noncommittally, and he's thankful Hummel at least can somehow read his mind.

He hears the front door open, Mercedes, Az, Lucy and Sam, who always come together in the same car, and anything but quiet. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten already, but should have guessed what with his mom's impromptu dinner invitation. He has seconds before they're all standing in the doorway to the den, peering at him and Hummel, who has twisted in his seat and look between the four of them and back at him.

"Oh my, it's like a little geek social event…" Hummel says, quietly enough so that he's positive no-one else hears and he scowls.

"With that lovely note, I think it's time for you to go…"

"I - . Oh, _fine_," Hummel snaps, almost throwing his books into his bag with unnecessary force. "See you later… _Karofsky_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note**: There is now a companion fic from Kurt's POV called 'Spankies and Pompoms'. It won't update as often as this. Also the DnD I have always played didn't have a lot of "role-play" components to it (some, but definitely not the focus), rather it was more hack-and-slash. Our DM was fantastic at keeping us focused and on task. For people who have never played, don't worry, you will hopefully be fine but please ask if you have any questions.

**Quick lesson** – DnD (Dungeons and Dragons) works on a d20 system (20-sided dice). When rolling it you want to roll as high as possible. Usually a 20 means an automatic pass at the task you are trying to achieve and a 1 means an automatic fail. There are modifiers added to the dice roll depending on a number of factors.

* * *

**PART SIX**

Mercedes blinks and looks at him, eyebrow quirked.

"What did you do to get his panties in a bunch?"

"What?"

"He seems kind of pissed. Despite his whole bitch-catty Jekyll-Hyde thing he has going he doesn't usually look _angry_."

He frowns and shrugs.

"He's never _not _been angry with me."

Her eyebrow remains raised and he's pretty sure she's going to spout an insane theory any second now. The others have walked past and joined Blaine in the kitchen for dinner and he can hear them already talking about their strategy for finding a way out of the ruins of an ancient dungeon, not knowing about his plans to unleash a horde of undead. It makes for far more interesting conversation than –

"Maybe he _likes_ you." And there it is; insane theory number one.

"Pfft." Dave rolls his eyes at the singsong tone and pushes her in the direction of the kitchen.

"What? You like _him_."

"No. I _don't_ like him. I like what he _looks_ like. There is a difference."

"You're not getting to know him a bit better with all the time you're spending with him?"

"Cedes, it's been three sessions, we've barely reached being cordial to one another."

"Oh. Well, he still looked angry, like you'd kicked his puppy or something."

"The only thing I might have hurt is his ego, and that can do with some deflating. Now come on, before everyone else eats everything."

"Or decides to use me as a living sacrifice."

"Yeah, that too."

The six of them eat quickly, they never take their time when there's a game waiting to start, and he's better prepared than he thought he would be, although next week will be interesting, he'll arrive around the same time as them if he tutors Hummel at his house, being across the other side of town. Game time is sacred, but he's pretty sure Hummel wouldn't be open to the idea of him just coming here every Wednesday, and he kind of feels bad that his attention wasn't fully on the tutoring today.

He sets up the party in the formation from the last game, sketching in the already discovered corridors and rooms from the notes in his book. The others are discussing a marching order, rearranging their miniatures where he indicates. He calls for spot and listen checks, and because they're all talking decides that they'll have to roll _really_ high to hear anything. It's not like dead people make a lot of noise. They've used a lot of their spells and resources for the day, and he's kind of annoyed that they went completely off tangent and have ended dungeon diving instead of heading further into the mountains to face off with the ice giant tribe.

"Right, so Blaine and Sam, you can both hear something."

"Can we tell what it is?"

"Roll again."

They do and Sam huffs, annoyed and pushes his chair away from the table.

"I'm just going to go and microwave my dice."

"Another natural one? Dude, you should throw that one out. It's got bad mojo or something."

"It just needs a little love."

"I don't think microwaving it counts as love," Mercedes points out.

"Blaine, what did you roll?"

"A nineteen."

"Okay. It sounds like something is dragging or scraping against the stone. And it's getting progressively louder. Closer."

"Oh _shit_."

Sam sits down again, dice torturing forgotten and Lucy looks stricken. He knows they can't handle this right now, they don't have the resources to fight their way out so he's curious to see what they'll do. He asks them to roll spot checks and half of them make it successfully. Of course, the undead are now only sixty feet away and he gets them to role initiative, listening as they ready actions, and discuss the likelihood of surviving. He doesn't like killing them so will no doubt lower the challenge if they don't come up with something.

"I pull a door off and bar their way."

"And where are you getting a door from?" Dave asks, pretty sure that's not on Sam's equipment list for his character.

"It's on my robe of useful things. See? There," he points at the extra items listed on that item and damn it, this is almost too easy. He shrugs and grins, glad that Sam at least has come up with a solution.

"Right, there's now a ten by ten iron door between you and them."

"What else is on that robe? Do you have a pit we could put on the other side?" Lucy asks and he grins. _Now_ they're getting creative and in the space of a round there's a large pit and a door between the adventure party and the horde of undead. Their characters need to rest, pray, eat to replenish, so he leaves them to discuss spell choices for a couple of minutes. He looks around the table to see Mercedes staring at him.

"What?"

"Maybe he's jealous." _Great_. Insane theory number two. He shakes his head.

"What?" Sam asks at the same time Az says "Who?"

"Kurt Hummel," Blaine says, although he doesn't look up when he says it, instead focusing on his character sheet. He's kind of curious to know how he knows what Mercedes is talking about though.

"Why would he be jealous of you?" Az asks and he shakes his head, waving a hand at Mercedes and tells them it's her crazy theory.

"I think Hummel has the hots for Dave."

"Yeah right, what are you basing that on? All the experience the six of us we've had romantically wouldn't fill a thimble."

"Hey! Speak for yourself!" Az declares and his eyebrows aren't the only ones that shoot up in surprise.

"What?! Honey bees flock to this flower!"

He can't stop the rolling laughter at the idea of Az being a self-proclaimed flower, and he isn't the only one laughing. He doubts Az has actually done anything, but Mercedes is suitably distracted by the idea that he _may_ have so he's no longer under her scrutiny. He draws their attention back to their predicament in the game, moving it along and the rest of the game goes smoothly, only monsters die. He gives out enough experience for them all to level up, he reads out their haul of loot and listens to their individual plans for the imaginary money in game. What he _doesn't_ do is think about Kurt Hummel.

Dreams are another matter, and the frequency Hummel is starring in those has definitely picked up since he started tutoring him. He's not entirely welcoming of the fact that he wakes nearly every morning with an erection due to dreams of Hummel, but it's an improvement to waking up aroused to images of Blaine that one time. He's not stupid or socially unaware, he knows where he stands and despite Mercedes little rose-tinted romance-seeing glasses, he knows Hummel would never be interested in him.

He gets to school and gets a couple of head jerks from some of the jocks and what the actual fuck is going on? He gets to his locker to find Mercedes waiting for him, smiling widely, Blaine beside her and looking equally pleased about something.

"What?"

"A whole week. No start-of-the-day slushy. No dumpster welcome wagon. No locker checks. It's a whole new world!"

He lays a finger over Blaine's lips before he can break into song, eyes searching. It feels weird, like everyone is actually at school to learn and not fight it out until there are only survivors to tell the tale. The familiar red and white catches his eye and he turns.

"Karofsky," Hummel greets, _smiling_ and walking past with a couple of other Cheerios. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but it's too late by the time his throat decides to work again and he just lets out a little croak.

"How do you think he gets his hair like that?" Blaine asks, staring after him, and he has _no idea_, because he sure as hell wasn't looking at his hair. Smiling. At him.

"See, told you he likes you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note**: My congratulations if you managed to make it through the last chapter and not be put off the story – I am trying to find a balance between those of you that are all "Eee! BBT! DnD! Gaming! Munchkin! StarTrek! (Etc.)" and the others that are "Kurtofsky! Smut! UST! Get it on already!"

* * *

**PART SEVEN**

It's been a week now, and he'd been an idiot to underestimate Mercedes. She's a smart woman, however prone to wild theories she can be. This time there does seem to be something to back this particular wild theory up though. Hummel smiles at him. Not just him, but all of them, like he's taken them under his red-and-white pleated cape to somehow include them in his social circle. Not that there is anything more than smiles, and he still catches Hummel glaring at him occasionally, but maybe she's right; he seems angry about something and thinking Hummel's angry at him is a little self-absorbed. Hummel probably has other things on his mind.

He knows that he's being an effective tutor, but only because Mr Mallory had taken him aside and said he'd already noted a marked improvement in Hummel's attention in class, his workings and in the questions he's asking. He gets a little thrill knowing that, even if Hummel hasn't said anything. The tutoring sessions become a bit more relaxed for him after that, knowing that he's doing a good job. However last night he'd practically sprinted to his car though, leaving Hummel's in such a rush to get home he knows it was bordering on rude.

"Hey Karofsky, can I talk to you for a second?"

He shouldn't be surprised, but he's pretty sure this is the first time Hummel has spoken to him in view of other people. Spoken to him _normally_ that is. The hall is busy with students and Mercedes is looking smug and he rolls his eyes at her.

"Yeah, sure. What about?" No one looks surprised that they're talking to each other, although the slight surreal aspect of it is hard to shake.

"I just thought after your spectacularly rushed exit last night we could just move the Wednesday sessions to your house every week. If that suits you of course?"

Of course it suits him, but now he is definitely surprised, because the offer is considerate. More than considerate, _generous_. He's getting paid to tutor Hummel at his home, and only two weeks in Hummel seems to want to make things easy for him.

"Uh… that would be, you don't have to, but, that would be really cool if you don't mind. Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I weren't sure. And you never know, that table might actually come in handy."

He snaps his mouth shut, sure he's imagined the little hint of innuendo and nods his head.

"Thanks. That's…" _really nice of you_. "Thanks."

"No problem. See you guys later."

He waves and smiles as he backs away, people automatically getting out of his way, the Cheerios uniform clearly acting like a mini force field, and he stands there waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is just too weird.

"Do you think we somehow slipped into an alternate reality in our sleep last night?"

"I'd hope that if I slipped into an alternate reality it would be one where I'd already finished high school. This has a kind of scary-creepy dream or pod person feel to it."

"I thought you said last week he was nice."

"_What_? I never said he was _nice_. I said he wasn't usually _angry_. He's usually so happy and peppy and _go team_! Seeing him look pissed off was unusual. _Real_. You know?"

He stares after Hummel and wonders, because maybe his anger is more real than anything else, and for some reason Dave brings it out in him. Except that anger has lessened considerably for some reason, almost gone overnight.

"So what do you make of that little conversation then?"

"Honestly? I have no idea."

**TLOT**

On Wednesday night a week later when Hummel says '_Have a good time guys. See you in school tomorrow' _he isn't the only one left with their mouth gaping open. The smiles have remained bright and friendly, and now that he thinks about what Mercedes said, it does seem a little fake sometimes, like he's putting on an act. Not that he's complaining, because he much prefers his friends slushy and dumpster-toss free; but he's not a fan of hiding or pretending. The more he gets to know Hummel, he's pretty sure a lot of what he says and does is an act. Still, he doesn't know anything for certain, and it doesn't impact on his ability to learn so he lets it slide.

**TLOT**

"Wow, you're really getting this."

"I did tell you I wasn't stupid," Hummel retorts, and he shakes his head at the immediately defensive tone of his voice. He's pretty sure he must sometimes just rub Hummel the wrong way, but he knows the other boy is trying and he has to at least meet him halfway. Or try to.

"I know you're not, but I mean, we hadn't even covered this bit yet and you've already studied ahead…"

Now that they've covered the basics and managed to catch up on all the class work so far in the year he hadn't expected Hummel to be proactive and read ahead. Hummel looks flustered? Embarrassed? He doesn't get it but he shrugs, because there's a lot about Kurt Hummel which he doesn't get.

"I do want to learn this stuff you know."

He sighs and shakes his head again, maybe it's a bad day or something because Hummel hasn't been this snappish in ages, but he's pretty sure it's not him that Hummel is annoyed with.

"Look, I know you do. I think it's great you're studying ahead. Really. I just… I'm impressed at how far you've come in such a short period of time. It's great. Soon you won't need me anymore."

"What? _No_. You're really helping. So much of this just didn't make sense before and now… well, Mr Mallory and the others were right when they said you'd be the best person to help me."

Hummel is _definitely _blushing now and he frowns, running the words over in his head and _wow_, okay, _maybe_, just maybe he's being flirted with. He's never been flirted with before so it's hard to know. No, he decides, Hummel doesn't even know he's gay, so he can't actually be intentionally flirting, just being friendly, like he has been for the last couple of weeks. That sounds way more plausible at least. He smiles slightly in return, shrugs and starts in on the universality of motion and relativity, the newest subject they're attempting to cover.

**TLOT**

"Damn. Fuck. Shit."

"Are we swearing alphabetically again?" Az asks.

"No. I can't find the campaign book."

He looks immediately to Blaine, who is sitting there eyes wide and shaking his head, hands held up in supplication. He's been the culprit the last two times his book has gone missing, but he's pretty sure that this time it's his fault. Mixing text books and gaming books is a recipe for disaster, especially when the current campaign book is such a slim volume.

"Just give me a second to go upstairs and check my room, otherwise we'll just have to proceed from my memory and wing it for the night."

A quick scramble through the books in his room is fruitless and he sighs. It'll turn up, somewhere random and unexpected, like among his mom's recipe books, or music books or with his dad's cryptic crossword puzzles. He trudges downstairs and he knows the look on his face is all the answer his friends need to know he had no luck in finding the book. At least he has the scraps of paper he made notes on, which should be enough to keep them busy, as long as they don't completely go off-road again.

He's relieved when they decide to head back to the city to cash in their loot, something he can gloss over without the lack of book hindering the story line. He hears his mom go and answer the doorbell when it rings, but he's too busy rolling up what will potentially be a record haul for the party. Blaine's character's charisma modifier goes a long way to ensuring they receive top money for the gear they've collected along the way. Mercedes and Az's characters are making plans to visit their various temples and Sam's character goes shopping for spell components. Lucy is doing her nails, which is her not-so-subtle way of telling him she's bored. A soft cough at the doorway has him looking up and Hummel is back in his house, holding his campaign book.

"Hi again, sorry, I must have picked it up by accident and I figured you'd need it for the uh, thing."

"Game. It's a game," Sam mutters, but he doesn't look up from the lists he's pouring over. Hummel doesn't seem overly keen to enter the room so he pushes his chair back and goes to collect his book. It's too late now to be any use really, and Hummel could have just given it to him in school tomorrow, seeing as he's taken to greeting him every time he sees him now, but the fact that he's gone to the effort of driving back across town to bring it back to him is… nice.

"Thanks for bringing it back. I don't know how it got mixed in with your books, but it's kind of vital, so yeah, thanks for bringing it back."

"No problem. Um. I better get going again. Enjoy the rest of your, uh, game."

Hummel nods his head and mumbles a goodbye before leaving. He turns back to the table to find everyone grinning at him. He's clearly missing something.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note**: By this stage you should have read the first two chapters of "Spankies and Pompoms" – reading on my LJ is probably easiest because it has all the follow-on links in order they should be read.

**Warning**: This ends on what you might call a cliff hanger. Don't say I didn't warn you.

* * *

**PART EIGHT**

They fall into an easy routine, the repetition of the sessions, seeing each other on a regular basis, both in Hummel's house, in his own, and at school, it all becomes familiar. He'll always remember the first time he smiled back at Hummel, because Hummel's smile in return had been so wide it had almost split his face. Lucy had jabbed him so sharply in the ribs he'd fully expected to see bruising the next day. So they're friendly now, and he feels like a bit of an ass for being so difficult in the beginning, but then he reminds himself that Hummel didn't really deserve for him to go easy on him.

Of course he kind of wants to tell Hummel he can call him Dave if he wants, because calling each other Karofsky and Hummel is getting ridiculous at this point. He has no idea how to broach it now, so he just avoids it, mainly because the one and only time he tried to say something the words stuck in his throat and he couldn't say anything. So saying nothing and just trundling along with the status quo is what he seems to be stuck with, at least for now.

It's been seven weeks, and Hummel has had a few small tests, all of which he's passed easily, and he's not held back on the praise. He's pretty sure that they could drop down to two sessions a week, but Hummel seems reluctant to do that. He feels a bit bad about the unnecessary money that Mr Hummel is paying him when he's pretty sure Kurt could survive now on less. Regardless he knows Kurt's grades have improved, and Mr Hummel has taken him aside and thanked him for that, along with asking how the bullying situation is.

He knows Mr Hummel had said something, and he informs him that it's much improved and gets a slow smile and wink, along with a strong pat to the back like he's done a good job. He likes the feeling and . He starts thinking of him as Kurt in his head, and when Kurt asks, tentatively and with clear curiosity a week or so later if he can sit in on the game the following week he knows his long stretch of silence is taken as a negative, can see him start to stiffen up at what he thinks is rejection. He finds it quietly amusing that he's starting to be able to read him so well.

"Are you sure? You really want to watch a game?"

"I admit to being curious. I'm a very curious person. I want to see how it works. Um. Is that okay?"

"Uh. Yeah. I don't think you'll find it very interesting but sure, you can hang out."

The game of course turns into a bit of a cluster-fuck of epic proportions. Lucy and Mercedes keep wiggling their eyebrows at him suggestively, Blaine barely speaks up enough to voice his character's actions, and Sam and Az try and explain to Kurt, in far too much detail, exactly how everything works. He can see it going over his head and the glazed expression on his face indicating he is fast losing interest.

"Come sit here, ignore those two clowns. They're over complicating everything."

He ignores the low snickers from the two girls and Blaine's wide worshipful eyes as Kurt pulls his chair around to sit beside him. It's almost like one of their tutoring sessions and he explains as simply as possible the sheer basics before making the group of characters make some skill checks. He explains the tasks of the different types of characters, special abilities and so on. He has to hold up his hand to stop Sam from interrupting numerous times, and he's muttering under his breath at the end of it, which everyone else finds amusing except for Sam.

"A simplification. But adequate," Sam mutters, eyeing the paint job on his miniature and Dave rolls his eyes in Kurt's direction and shrugs slightly, as if to say '_what can I do?'_ and Kurt's delighted grin makes him feel warm and squirmy and when Lucy giggles he has no qualms about kicking her under the table.

The game finishes and he's amazed the Kurt has stayed for the entire thing, quietly watching and only asking the occasional question. He's picked up and played with his numerous multi-sided dice, seemingly fascinated by the twenty-sided and four-sided, stacking them in little lines and towers along the edge of the table. His mom isn't horrifically embarrassing, just bringing in hot chocolate and brownie for them, both of which Kurt had politely declined although had immediately looked like he regretted it when everyone else started eating.

He'd broken a piece of off his own and placed it on the table, inclining his head toward it so Kurt could take it, the action hidden behind the DM screens, but of course when Kurt had raised it to his lips to eat it Mercedes eyebrows had shot up, and she's too far away for him to kick. He knows tomorrow he'll be getting the third degree, and probably the forth and fifth if the girls have anything to say about it. He just hopes they can keep quiet until at least Kurt leaves tonight, but he wouldn't put any money on it.

**TLOT**

Seeing Kurt unnerved is kind of endearing, although he imagines if he ever voiced that opinion out loud he'd end up with a verbal lashing. He never thought he would end up in the boy's bathroom giving Kurt Hummel a pep talk before a major end-of-term test.

"Oh god, I think I am going to be sick."

Well, at least they're in the right place if he does throw up, but he decides to go for comforting rather than pragmatic.

"You'll be fine. Look, just remember everything we've gone over…"

"_Really_? I thought you passed tests by forgetting everything! Sorry! I _know_ that's what I need to do, but what if I can't. Oh god."

"Look, just relax. It's like that mini mock test I gave you last week. Doing three questions well is better than doing four questions half-assed. Have a quick read through. Focus on the things you know you can do well on, then some of the other stuff might come to you, when you're not so wound up and stressed out."

"Easy for you to say, you could ace this with your eyes closed."

"Uh…"

"You get my point!"

"Look, you'll be fine. I know you know this stuff."

"Right. Okay. I can do this."

He watches in quiet amusement as Kurt squares his shoulders and takes in deep bracing breaths, and he wonders if he is like this before big performances. Kurt takes a couple of steps toward the door and he calls out.

"Kurt!" Kurt turns, eyes wide with shock and he grins. "Good luck!"

His grin falters as Kurt turns completely and walks back toward him and then he's being kissed, his face cupped in super-soft hands. Shock has him completely unresponsive, but he notices the soft warmth of lips, the rasp of slightly-stubbled skin against his chin, the smell of warm skin and whatever cologne Kurt wears fills his nose. He's just about to kiss back when Kurt pulls away sharply, eyes wide and apologetic.

"_Fuck_. I'm sorry. So _so_ sorry."

He blinks, unable to say anything and the door to the bathroom swings shut as Kurt runs away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note**: By this stage **you should have read the first three chapters of "Spankies and Pompoms"** – reading on my LJ is probably easiest because it has all the follow-on links in order they should be read.

For people that aren't familiar with my writing style, I don't draw out angst/drama for chapters. I usually have my characters talk to each other and it's all resolved far too quickly. Usually.

* * *

**PART NINE**

He doesn't know what to say or do and his lips kind of tingle, but he knows it's just the increased flow of blood to his lips caused by the stimulation of the nerves there. Logic doesn't stop his lips tingling though and he licks them tentatively, and he's not sure if it's his imagination or if it kind of tastes of something different. Obviously Hummel, Kurt, no, _Hummel_, knows that he's gay, but kissing him hadn't been planned, or wanted or… he's confused. Hummel had looked sick, or terrified, or… something _not good_ anyway when he'd pulled back, just before he started apologizing. He doesn't get it, and there's no way in hell he's admitting what just happened to anyone.

Mercedes and Lucy would just giggle and say they told him so, although if Kurt _does_ like him then why did he run away? Does he suck at kissing? Oh god, he sucks at kissing. It's not like he's ever had any practice. So Kurt Hummel doesn't like him, which suits him fine, because he doesn't like him either. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and grimaces. _Liar._ Letting out a long breath he scrubs his face with his hands, wondering when he actually started to like him. Not just what he looks like, because he isn't blind, but the other parts of him. The way he sucks on a pen when he's thinking about a problem. How he seems to have so much energy he never stops moving, feet and legs constantly shifting even when he's sitting still. He likes his smile, the real genuine ones.

He can't concentrate now and he's glad he isn't the one going and sitting a test, the chemistry class he has isn't going to be any fun. Although maybe the distraction is exactly what he needs. He opens the door and glances both ways before heading to class. Lucy gives him a concerned look, he's actually a minute or two late but because it's never happened before the teacher lets it slide. She writes a note in the margin of his book, asking if he's alright and he replies with a short sharp nod and instead decides to focus on orbital shells.

When school lets out he's come up with a plan. Kind of. _Normal_. That's how he's going to act, as if everything is completely normal and like the kiss didn't happen. That way Kurt doesn't need to be embarrassed and they can just pretend that nothing out of the ordinary happened. He doesn't need to hear Kurt's false apologies and he _definitely_ doesn't need to hear him say that he hadn't meant to kiss him. He pulls his car into the drive and gets out, his steps slowing as he sees him standing at the front door, arms crossed and normal might be completely out of the question.

"Hello."

"Hummel. Hey. How was the test?"

"We're back to Hummel are we?"

_Wow_. It's like they've dropped back in time by eight weeks, Kurt has anger _pouring_ off him, and he feels like he needs to take a step back, unused to him like this, and it reminds him starkly exactly how much he's actually relaxed around him. He has no idea what to say though, one hundred percent certain anything he does say is going to be taken the wrong way and used against him, and he's going to be pissed off about it all regardless. He has to pick something to say though, because silence would probably make Kurt madder.

"I can call you Kurt if you want."

"Oh, you're asking my permission now? You didn't seem to think you needed it earlier today."

"What the hell? What are you talking about?"

"You called me Kurt!"

"I… did I? Uh… sorry?"

He doesn't really remember calling him Kurt, but he's been using the name so much in his head now it doesn't surprise him if it slipped out. He sees the muscles on Kurt's jaw tense up and somehow he's made him even angrier. _Brilliant_.

"Sorry? You're _sorry_?"

"Okay, I think you might be over reacting a bit. I mean, I called you Kurt. You've called me a lot worse."

He feels like an ass the second he says it, but he's getting pissed off that Kurt seems to be furious at him for a simple slip of the tongue. Fuck, this is why he doesn't like him. He shakes his head and crosses his own arms, mirroring Kurt's defensive posture.

"I'm not angry about you calling me Kurt! I don't care about that!"

"Could have fooled me! You're standing in front of my house yelling at me about it!"

"I'm yelling at you because you let me think that you were straight! And then I kissed you and I felt _awful_ and you _still_ didn't say anything! You weren't going to tell me! I can tell! You would have just let me sit there and feel like _shit_ and not done or said anything!"

"I'm not straight," he says it quietly, confused.

"I know!"

"You didn't know I was gay?"

"No!" Kurt screams, and he doesn't get it. How did he not know this morning but know now?

"I thought you knew I was gay. I mean… you kissed me."

"No! I mean… yes, I kissed you. But I thought you were straight. And I still kissed you." The last is mumbled quietly, without the previous heat and he finally breaks eye contact and looks away and it hits him then, how vulnerable he must have felt afterward, the apology for kissing him and then…

"Oh. _That's_ why you ran away…"

"Well, I wasn't exactly going to stick around and wait for you to punch me."

"I wouldn't punch you." He wouldn't punch anyone.

"Oh."

They stare at each other, uncomfortable silence stretching between them and he has no idea what to say. It's like the early days of tutoring, when they kept to the bare minimum.

"How was the test?" and "Why didn't you tell me?" all come out in a jumbled mess as they both try and reinitiate conversation at the same time.

"You lot already made fun of me and my friends for being geeks. You think I wanted to give them more ammunition?"

"I… I'm sorry about all that. I…"

He wants to tell him it's okay, but he can't. He knows how badly some of his friends have been hurt by Kurt and the other Cheerios, and even now if everything is pretty friendly and much better, there is still the remembered hurt. His own hurt.

"How did you figure out that I wasn't straight?"

"Oh, that. Blaine told me."

"Right."

For some reason he looks embarrassed by something, but he's too busy being amazed Blaine actually managed to speak to Kurt coherently to dwell on it.

"I think I'm going to give tutoring a miss if that's okay?"

"Yeah, sure, course."

"Uh, I think I did pretty well in the test."

"Cool." Wow, their conversation skills have skidded to an abrupt crawl and he can only hope that Kurt feels just as awkward as he does.

"Okay then. See you later Karofsky."

"You can call me Dave you know."

The shy smile and glance away are obvious enough social cues that even he realizes them for what they are and he suddenly feels a little warm. Kurt Hummel kissed him. Kissed him because he wanted to, even when he thought he was straight.

"Okay. See you tomorrow in school Dave."

"See you tomorrow Kurt."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note**: Part 4 of "Spankies" takes place chronologically at the same as this. It will be posted shortly.

You really need to read Spankies and this together - if I'd known at the outset I would have made it one fic, but you live and learn.

Lack of updates due to my grandmother dying and my children being sick (with surgery planned for next week).

* * *

**PART TEN**

He opens the front door, catching his reflection in the mirror his mom keeps by the front entrance and he's grinning like an idiot. _Hummel likes him_. God, Mercedes and Lucy are going to be impossible and will no doubt label themselves the ultimate matchmakers, but he doubts he'll have time to care. Fuck. Is that too optimistic?

"Where's Kurt? I thought I heard his voice…"

"You mean you heard him yelling at me." His mom nods and inclines her head, looking a little smug and he shakes his head, a bit embarrassed. "Uh, he didn't feel up for tutoring today so we're just taking a break today."

"Oh, okay then. Are you okay? You look a little flushed. You're not coming down with something are you?"

"No mom. Definitely not. Just feeling a bit warm. Um."

He leaves her standing there, heading for his room. God, he can't talk to his mom about this. She might be his biggest supporter, but he's not talking to her about Kurt Hummel, or about his waning reluctance about pursuing something with him. He doesn't know if it's really reluctance now, or just some anxiousness about the unknown. Although there is the whole name calling and bullying, but that is in the past. Kurt had actually seemed sincerely apologetic, and maybe he's making this into a bigger thing than it is. Mercedes and Lucy aren't holding a grudge against him, although he doesn't know how they'd feel if he were hooking up with someone like Santana Lopez.

Oh _shit_, he just thought about Kurt and hooking up in one conscious thought and… _yeah_, he more than just likes the idea. He collapses onto his bed and stares at the ceiling. Screwed if he knows how it's going to happen though, or what the next step is, or if it's going to happen at all. Does he ask him out or wait for Kurt to ask him? What if he asks and he says no and it's just a massive joke? He shakes his head, he's over thinking it. He's pretty sure Kurt hasn't planned this – everything today has been too raw to have been premeditated.

He plays the kiss over in his head, wondering what it would be like to kiss him back, to actually make out with him. He was really too much in shock to appreciate it, but the idea of having time, lots of time, to kiss him and feel his body pressed up against his. That Kurt _wants_ to kiss him and push his body up against him is exhilarating and he feels attractive, maybe even sexy, for the first time in his life. His cock has been filling slowly while he'd been thinking, and he shifts it, the slight adjustment feeling good enough that he rubs his hand along the length again.

A quick glance at the clock tells him he has at least twenty minutes before Blaine turns up, which is plenty of time for what he wants to do. First things first he closes and locks his door. Embarrassing as it is, his mom will know not to disturb him. He lies back down again, undoing the buckle on his belt and wiggling until his jeans and briefs are down enough for him to be able to grasp his cock. He wonders what it'll feel like to have another guy touch him like this, and it's not like he hasn't thought about this before, but the actual possibility of it happening has never seemed so real before. So close.

He strokes, trying to imagine what another guy's cock might feel like, and he guesses it wouldn't be much different, except for width and length maybe. He's filled with a sudden and incessant desire to know what Kurt's cock looks like. His own is fairly thick but average in length, judging from the porn he's seen. Right now it feels overly warm in his hand, harder than usual when he's jerking off, and maybe it's because he's had his first kiss, which is the start of his sexual experience regardless of anything further happening with Kurt.

That it's Kurt, a guy he has fantasized about off and on for a good few years despite not liking him for much of it is kind of hot, not to mention an ego boost. He lets his mind run rampant, consider all sorts of wonderful physical things they can do together, and he knows Kurt is flexible. His hand speeds up at the thought, the image of Kurt's legs wrapped around his waist as he carries him to a bed. The idea of doing it in reality is terrifying, but that's the beauty of fantasy, their hands are sure, removing clothes and there's no awkwardness. Naked bodies pressed against each other, cocks sliding, teeth nipping and tongues tasting skin.

He licks his lips, tasting the salt of sweat on his upper lip and feeling the rasp of stubble and he lets his imagination pretend it's someone else. _Kurt_. Now that he's actively thinking about it, allowing himself to think about it, his body feels tight, stretched and he reaches down with his other hand to cup his balls. His other hand is still pumping, jerking frantically and he's getting close. Knows he's so _so_ close to coming.

_**Knock. Knock. Knock.**_

"Dave? You in there?" The door handle rattles. "Why is your door locked? Are you okay?"

"Fuck off Blaine!"

Oh god, he can't believe it, he could kill him. He pants, body almost arched completely off the bed, and if he weren't right on the edge the presence of Blaine on the other side of his bedroom door would be a complete buzz kill but as it is he can't stop.

"Is Kurt in there with you?"

"No!"

"Man, no need to yell…"

"Oh god, fuck, shit… ugh…" he tries to keep quiet as he comes, although Blaine has to know what he's doing in here and he hopes he's gone back downstairs. God he hopes so. He really doesn't need to think about his best friend while he's getting off. Any of his best friends. He can't even lie there and enjoy the after glow, knowing Blaine is down stairs waiting. Damn him. His body feels heavy and warm as he moves, reaching for the tissues beside his bed and quickly cleaning up and getting re-dressed.

He washes his hands and heads downstairs, and he can hear Blaine talking to his mom in the kitchen. Blaine sounds worked up but his mom is laughing too much for him to be worried. He stands in the doorway and Blaine immediately stops talking before flushing red and looking away.

"Closed bedroom door huh?" His mom asks, and he groans and tells her '_shut up_' under his breath. Sometimes he wishes his mom could be a little more stand-offish like Blaine's mom, but then again his friends all love his mom so he guesses he got pretty lucky. "Blaine seems to think he owes you an apology. Two now I suppose."

"Oh god mom, please, can we just not talk about it?" He turns to Blaine. "What do you need to apologize for?"

"For telling Kurt! I didn't mean to tell him! I thought he knew. I thought maybe you were angry with me."

Blaine actually looks worried and he shakes his head, smiling slightly. He's not closeted, just careful, and having Kurt know isn't a bad thing. He doesn't hold it against Blaine at all, still kind of amused that Blaine managed to talk to him. There's hope for him yet.


	11. Chapter 11

**PART ELEVEN**

He oscillates between disbelief that Kurt Hummel might actually like him and a warm glow, caused by the certain knowledge that Kurt Hummel _likes_ him. When he's in the disbelief stage he feels a little sick, sure that when he walks down the hall today it's actually going to turn out to be a massive prank and everyone's going to point and laugh. When he's feeling all warm and a little light headed he has to fight down the urge to giggle. Or laugh hysterically. No one is laughing though as he walks toward his locker, and Mercedes and Lucy are standing there waiting for him, so everything is normal so far. Then it's not. The red and white uniform Kurt only wears while at school is in front of him, containing Kurt, who is licking his lips and looking amazing.

"Dave. Hi."

"Hey."

Oh fuck, he knows then that it's definitely not a prank, because Kurt's blushing and chewing his bottom lip and all he needs to do is toe the linoleum with his shoe and it's every image of a cliché. It's _awesome_. He can feel the heat in his own cheeks, knows he doesn't look anywhere near as cute as Kurt, but that no one watching them could mistake this for anything other than two guys… not talking to each other. Hell, he might as well wear that t-shirt Lucy made for him that says _'Likes Boys'_ on it and just get it over and done with it, but he doesn't give a damn.

"I'd think that you had both lost the ability to speak, but I know I _just_ heard you say hello to each other. Why are you all acting weird now?" Mercedes asks, and he knows Lucy is just about to pipe up with her five cents.

"Could we talk, um, privately?"

He nods immediately and follows Kurt as he heads for an empty classroom, shooting a nervous look over his shoulder at Mercedes and Lucy, who both look like they're ready to torture information out of him. He'll pay for this later, god he hopes it's worth it. They don't say anything, and he knows it can't be anything longer than a minute, two tops, but it stretches out between them endlessly, becoming more and more awkward and he lets out a nervous laugh, because this shouldn't be that hard. He talks to Kurt all the time, Kurt talks to him; however now they're completely unable to say more than a couple of words to each other. There's no hope for either of them apparently.

"Wow. So this feels awkward," he states and cringes, instantly wanting to take it back, even if it's true. It's not Kurt's fault, or his own, it just… _is_.

"Uh, yeah. A little bit. Um."

"If you didn't want me to say anything you don't have to worry. I mean, I haven't told anyone about what happened yesterday. Except my mom, and well, I didn't really tell her exactly. She kind of heard you yelling at me. Um." Oh _god._ From being dumb-struck to verbal diarrhea in a matter of seconds. _Brilliant_.

"No. It's okay. I don't mind if you tell anyone. I mean. Unless you don't want to?"

"No! Yes! I mean… I want to?" Oh god, he doesn't even know what the question is, and he just feels so completely clueless. _Why aren't there classes for this type of shit?_

"Oh. I… good?"

The only saving grace seems to be Kurt seems to feel as awkward as he does, and anyone listening in to this conversation would have no clue what they were talking about, and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.

"_Good_." He can't come up with anything better to say and they both seem completely transfixed with the same spot on the floor. He doesn't know if this is what Kurt wanted to talk to him about or not, or if they need to say anything more on the matter, or what the matter actually is. _How do people get good at this?_

"Good," Kurt repeats, and a quick glance reveals that he's smiling and chewing on his lip again. "So. Um. I was wondering if, maybe tomorrow, you'd like to stay for dinner. Um, after tutoring me."

"Uh, dinner? Like a…" _A date?_ He adds internally, but the words don't make it past his lips, but he wonders if Kurt will hear them anyway, because he feels like a version of him shouted the words.

"A date. Yes."

"I… yeah. Yes. Sure. Great."

"Good. Um. Tomorrow then?"

"Yeah. Sure…" Fuck, what is he saying? What is he agreeing to?

Kurt gives him a shy smile as he leaves the room, waving his hand slightly and he absentmindedly raises his hand in a reciprocal farewell wave, his mind completely stuck on a few seconds ago when he was asked out on a date. The door to the classroom opens again, and he half expects it to be the start of a class coming in, except it's much worse. Mercedes and Lucy stand there, both of them with their arms crossed and faces clearly expressing the expect him to fill them in immediately. He doesn't know how to start, some residual awkwardness hanging about even with his best friends. Oh god. Blaine is going to freak _out_.

"You going to tell us what all that was about?"

"I have a date. Oh fuck. I have a date."

The reality hits him then like a cold icy wave and he slumps, putting his head between his knees and starting to take deep breaths. He can't believe he's actually going to do this.

"Okay okay, calm down. It's not the end of the world…"

"When is it? Do you know where you're going? What are you going to wear?"

He looks up, eyes wide and Mercedes pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.

"It's okay baby. We'll sort you out."

He isn't sure whether to be grateful or worried.

**TLOT**

He was saved by the bell, lucky enough to shush Lucy into silence with the sudden urgent need to get to class. Now though it's after school and Mercedes, Blaine, and Lucy are in the back of his car, discussing the different options they have when it comes to his wardrobe. He hasn't managed to get out anything more than '_dinner_' and he's starting to suspect they weren't really listening to him. He's not going to have time to go and get changed, he's not picking Kurt up and taking him anywhere, he's just staying for dinner, probably eating with his family… his dad. Just his dad. Huh. That puts a whole new spin on it and the fear he'd felt earlier comes back intensified. He's meeting the parents. Fuck.

The rational part of his brain is telling him he's already met Kurt's dad, that he's a nice enough seeming bloke. But he wasn't on a date with his son last time he met him. What if Kurt has told him? _What_ has Kurt told him? He just keeps creating questions in his head, and he's starting to give himself a headache when considering all the possible ways this could go wrong. He doesn't let his mind consider the ways it could go right, because that's an entirely different headache. His main question though is what will happen between the end of tutoring and dinner. There's at least a good hour to kill there, and Kurt hasn't mentioned anything else, and given their sudden complete lack of social skills when faced with each other it could be a very long and painfully quiet hour.

He pulls up outside his house and his friends pile out, traipsing up to the door and pushing it open, calling out to his mom that he has a date tomorrow night and not to expect him home for dinner. Of course this results in his mom excitedly coming to join them, and he tries to shrug off her effusive hug as she exclaims over how he's growing up. Lucy and Mercedes make sad comments about how neither of them have had a date yet, which is why they have to live vicariously through him. He's not buying it for a second, they like dressing him up and he's too much of a soft touch to say no.

Blaine is already hunting through his clothes, pulling out a pair of jeans he never wears, followed by a Captain America t-shirt he doesn't wear because it's a bit too tight across the chest for his liking. Then Blaine pulls out his favorite all-time shirt that he hardly ever wears because it's custom made. It looks like a plain white shirt, but on the inside of the French cuff is hand-drawn art by Lucy, depicting all the different Marvel superheroes. The same art is on the inside of the collar, so can be seen if he doesn't button it all the way up. Her and Mercedes made it for him for his last birthday, buying the shirt together, painstakingly taking it apart, doing the artwork before Mercedes had carefully sewn it back together. He loves it.

"Here. Try this on."

"Those are too small."

"No. They're really not. Everything else you wear is just two sizes too big. Humor us," Lucy demands, and he sighs, knowing he doesn't have a chance against the three of them _plus_ his mom. He steps into the bathroom, taking the clothes with him, because even if no one in the room is going to perv on him he still doesn't want to change in front of them. He pulls the t-shirt over his head, and yep, still tight across the chest. He pulls the jeans up and does them up and they have the tight feeling of denims just out of the wash. Too tight but with wear they will become much more comfortable. The jeans and t-shirt are both dark-blue, and he snorts as he realizes Blaine has chosen them because the color of the ink Lucy used on his shirt is almost the exact same shade. He'd roll the sleeves up, but doesn't want to hide the tiny bit of art he can see through the white material. Opening the bathroom door he steps back across the hall and into his own room, rolling his eyes as his friends fill his mom in on their school day.

"Mmm. Wow."

"You do scrub up well…"

Blaine simply looks please and his mom actually looks a little surprised, and he's not sure how to take that exactly. Lucy and Mercedes are walking around him like sharks and he jumps when one of them lands a sharp pat to his butt.

"Hey!"

They both laugh and murmur something about not usually seeing the merchandise and he huffs, although maybe he doesn't look too bad. He knows if he looked really bad they would definitely tell him, and it is his first date, except…

"I'm having dinner at his house. Don't you think this is a little formal for just dinner?"

They all look at him and start shaking their heads, and he's not sure if it's out of resignation about how stupid he's being, or that they really don't think what he's wearing is too formal.

"Dave, you're wearing jeans. And a t-shirt. That isn't formal," Blaine states, and he turns the cuffs inward, exposing most of the art work and folding it back into his sleeve, threading his one and only pair of cufflinks (Star Trek badges) through the holes.

"Oh yes… you definitely have to wear that tomorrow. He won't know what hit him."

He runs a hand through his hair, nerves fluttering unpleasantly and fuck, he hopes Hummel is worth the hassle of all of this, although he's pretty sure he is.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note**: Remember the Burt Hummel that would have let Kurt and Brittney have sex?

* * *

**PART TWELVE**

_Awkward_. That and way too turned on to be sitting down to dinner with Kurt's family. His dad actually looks amused and he wonders if the guy actually still likes him or whether there's a whole new set of rules now that he's a little more than just Kurt's tutor. Definitely more. He can still feel the press of Kurt's lips on his, his legs and body pressed against him, the feel of his hair against his fingertips. He'd initially not wanted to kiss him, but had completely vetoed that part of his brain, overridden, he knows logically, by hormones, but he can't find it anywhere in himself to care as he'd kissed Kurt. Up until his dad had interrupted them anyway. Then he'd felt the first trickle of doubt and fear and had suddenly understood Kurt's query about being scared.

He's not _scared_ exactly, but he suddenly feels like he's got to pass some test, one he hasn't studied for, doesn't know the format for and fully expects a pop-quiz on the contents along the way. That feeling of sick nerves is definitely worming its way around his gut and he hopes that Burt Hummel is actually the same reasonable man he met in the garage weeks ago, and hasn't turned into some overly protective scary parent who is willing to threaten prospective boyfriends into submission. He frowns, he isn't prospective, he's already Kurt's boyfriend. Right? That's what happens when you start dating someone. Maybe he should seek some clarification on that point.

"So, Dave, given any thought about what you're going to do after school?"

Wow. He hasn't even fully sitting down yet. But at least it's started now, and he knows the answer to this at least. In fact, if they're questions about him, then he might actually be okay.

"Yes sir. I'm going to Ohio State to study medicine."

Kurt's head snaps up from across the table, and he guesses they haven't really talked very much, outside tutoring and just school stuff in general. Burt Hummel is nodding, clearly impressed that he has his life mapped out, and he doesn't miss the look he gives Kurt and Kurt's responding eye roll. He's lucky in that he's always known what he wants to do, has had years to think about it and had parents that have supported his dream and given him ample opportunities to experience what it might be like. Numerous camps and workshops have made him more than aware of all the different possible job prospects out there.

"You can call me Burt," Mr Hummel informs him and he nods, but inwardly he is a little weirded out. He's only just started calling Kurt _Kurt_, so maybe he should just take some baby steps.

"Any particular area of medicine?" Carol asks, placing a large casserole dish in the centre of the table.

"Ah, yeah. Medical physics actually. I have to get my medical degree first, but I'm interested in the graduate program at the University of Chicago."

That's met with silence and he ducks his head, biting his lip, suddenly self-conscious. _This_ is why he normally keeps his mouth shut except when he's with friends or family, they understand every little thing that comes out of his mouth, or enough to give him shit for being wrong. He knows he has the next six or seven years of his life fairly set in stone. Not that he's unwilling to admit he might change his mind, but he's wanted this since he was eleven.

Kurt looks curious though, and he smiles hesitantly at him across the table, and he's pretty sure the seating plan has been organized solely to spite them, although he hopes like hell that it's Kurt foot pressing against his ankle and not Hudson's. Fortunately conversation slides into more neutral territory, with football coming up, and he can contribute to that, although he can tell Hudson and both the Hummels are surprised and he rolls his eyes inwardly at the stereotyping. Him and Az have always been fans, and Blaine watches for the tight pants if nothing else, making comments with Lucy and Mercedes.

It's actually pretty comfortable, after the discomfit of being found making out with Kurt nothing he is asked makes him squirm or feel embarrassed. Kurt's foot has left his ankle and travelled up to rest on his knee. He doesn't know what Kurt's playing at exactly, but he'd smiled slyly at him before wiggling his foot a little. He'd smiled back, amused but also curious about why Kurt seemed so insistent on touching him.

"Right, Kurt, you go and help Carol with the dishes. Finn, you have a nice time with Rachel. My and David are going to have a little chat."

His eyes shoot up to meet Burt Hummel's face, then to Kurt, who looks seriously pissed off.

"Really dad? _Really_?"

"Yes. _Really_. Now shoot, the sooner I start the sooner it'll be over and then I'll relieve you of your dish washing duties."

Kurt's foot disappears from his knee and he actually misses the warmth, Kurt mouths what looks like _'I'm so sorry'_ at him and he just shrugs and smiles. He's gone back to not being afraid, follows Mr Hummel back through to the lounge and knows he blushes when Mr Hummel raises an eyebrow at the seat where he was previously sitting and indicates for him to sit down, taking the single-seat recliner opposite him, leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him.

"Right. Look, I know you're a good kid. Smart. Kind. I just want Kurt to sweat a little. How's school for you now?"

"Uh…" he doesn't know what to say, suddenly realizing that _of course_ Mr Hummel told Kurt off for bullying him, and others. Not that Kurt didn't need to be reined in, but that he needed an outside influence for it to happen. "It's much better. For a lot of people."

He notes the tightening of the jaw and mouth muscles, but receives a sharp nod and what he guesses is an understanding look, or an assessing one. He's not exactly sure.

"So, you probably know this already, but Kurt is a strong minded individual. If you do anything that pisses him off I know I'll hear about it. Along with the rest of the neighborhood most likely. You just keep that in mind hmm?"

"Yes sir. But I can hold my own against him. I'm not exactly a wilting flower."

"I don't doubt it son. And I imagine that's part of why Kurt likes you." He ducks his head in a semblance of a nod, because hearing someone else say it, that Kurt likes him, from Kurt's dad no less, it's a weird sort of validation. "It's my job to protect Kurt, as much as I can, but I also need to be his parent. And I can't protect him from everything. I'm not going to make empty threats about hunting you down if you hurt him, because he's just as likely to hurt you. Just, try and be good for each other. I'll be telling him the exact same thing."

It's more than what he's received from either of his parents, when it comes to actual relationship advice, his mom far too excited about him dating to actually offer anything even bordering on practical words. And he's pretty sure Kurt won't get any type of talking to if they ever reciprocate this type of dinner type thing. He nods and mumbles '_thanks'_ under his voice, accepting the pat on his shoulder as Mr Hummel walks past. It takes quite a while before Kurt appears, and he guesses he's just had a talking to, or something, because he actually looks worried, and a little rushed.

"Oh, you are still here. Great."

"Did you think I'd leave without saying goodbye?"

"Well, my dad just made some pithy comment about scaring you away for good and… well…"

"I told you I wasn't afraid of him."

"I know, but you did actually look a little frightened when he caught us kissing."

"Nerves. So, uh, what are the plans for the rest of the night?"

He doesn't actually know, if maybe Kurt wants to go to the movies, or if he should go home now that dinner is over, although the sudden lapful of Kurt tells him that he is apparently not going anywhere and he's actually got Kurt Hummel _sitting on his lap_.

"Hi."

"Hi," Kurt grins. "I think we should probably talk, get to know each other better. I didn't know you want to be a doctor."

He's pretty sure that talking isn't immediately on the cards, not with the way Kurt is undulating his hips ever so slightly and he licks his lips, noticing the way Kurt's eyes follow the movement of his tongue and no, he's pretty sure talking is being used as a euphemism right now. Or at least he really hopes so. And he's definitely not going to correct Kurt and tell him he actually want to be a medical physicist because that would probably kill the mood.

"_Boys_. Kurt? Didn't we just have a talk about this?"

Kurt huffs in annoyance and is off his lap much too fast for his liking, but then he's holding a hand out, eyes crinkling with amusement as Dave accepts it, enjoying the softness of the skin but also the firm strength as Kurt actually pulls him upright as he stands.

"Want to come see my bedroom?"

_Holy shit._

He doesn't risk a glance at Mr Hummel, or Mrs Hudson, but he sees two mugs, can smell coffee and then he is going down a flight of stairs, his heart beating faster with every downward step. He has no idea what Burt Hummel has said to Kurt, but obviously this is okay. The room is pretty sparse actually, he'd expected a bit more clutter and his curiosity grows as he looks around. There's obviously an area for dancing, or cheering he supposes, a closet and a bed… which is exactly where he's been shuffled toward. _Hmm_. Not that he minds being shuffled, or directed, but he kind of has ideas of his own, and he wants to try them out.

"Your dad is okay with this?"

"Mmmhmm… No double standards allowed in this house. When Carol started staying over and we talked about it and I said I could be grown up and mature about it, as long as he would be the same when I wanted to start having a boyfriend stay over."

"Uh, I didn't bring anything –"

"Oh, I didn't mean tonight, that might be pushing it for a first date don't you think?"

Fuck, he has no idea; everything they've done doesn't exactly scream first date to him. Meeting the family? Dinner with said family? Kurt's hands are on his ass, trying to encourage him onto the bed and he decides that hands on ass actually sound like a fantastic idea and he slides his hands around Kurt's waist and down, pulling his body flush with his own, and stopping the progress toward the bed.

"I don't know, doesn't seem like a traditional first date so far."

"_Oh_."

He covers Kurt's mouth with his own, feeling warm lips that vaguely taste of tomato give way, then press firmly back against his own. His stomach swoops, and his whole body is in agreement, this feels fantastic. There's none of the shock that was present in their first kiss on Wednesday, or the surprise of the kiss just earlier that evening. It's all warm heat, Kurt's body pressing against his firmly, hands going to his waist, fingers grabbing his shirt and then he feels the press of a _knee_ and then Kurt is even _closer_ and pretty much somehow straddling his thigh while standing up, and there's a hand in the back pocket of his jeans and _it isn't his own. _

He moves his hands, winding one around a slim waist and the other he curls into the hair at the back of Kurt's head, pressing his lips in a wet-rough-slide against Kurt's jawline, and he can feel the tiny _tiny_ prickle of stubble dragging against his bottom lip. It feels like Kurt's body is thrumming, and there's no mistaking the not-so-gentle thrusting motion that he's making with his hips, and he wonders if Kurt is even aware of what his body is doing. He returns to Kurt's mouth, removing his hand from Kurt's hair with the intent to wedge it between their bodies. It feels too awkward and he gives up, instead grasping Kurt's ass again and thrusting in time with him, although less certain, but the low humming sound Kurt makes _sounds_ like approval, so he keeps going.

It doesn't feel magical or romantic, but the hot coiling pressure doesn't feel any less amazing for that. He can feel his erection, trapped hot against too-tight jeans, the friction of Kurt rubbing against him, although he can barely feel Kurt's erection through the multiple layers of denim, and the thought of them maybe one-day doing this naked has him groaning, hands gripping firmer, lips going from softly exploratory to firm nips which cause Kurt to bare his neck which he takes as an open invitation to start sucking, licking and kissing along the length. Again his mind travels elsewhere, wondering about another sensitive length of Kurt's body, and whether he might, one-day-soon, be allowed to give it the same treatment.

Kurt's bucking against him, muttering under his breath and he wants to mutter back, whisper dirty filthy nothings, tell him to come in his pants, because he doesn't want to be the only one. Wants to tell Kurt exactly what he does to him, what he wants to do to him, and everything in between. Instead all he does is make sounds that are barely recognizably English, but he doesn't care, he can hardly breathe. He can feel Kurt's fingers digging into his shoulder, face buried in his neck as he returns the same sucking and licking treatment and _fuck _it does feel 's pretty sure they're both almost panting and he grips harder, wanting just a _little_ bit more added friction.

"Oh fuck, god… Dave… please, oh god…"

"Yeah…yeah," the words come out in long drawn-out groans and he can't really believe they're doing this when a few weeks ago they weren't even on a first name basis. He can tell when Kurt comes, the litany of swear words out of his mouth would make even Az raise an eyebrow and he likes the boneless slumping feel his body takes before he notices that there is a hand on cock, slipped between them at the horribly awkward angle and -

"Fucking _hell_…"

"_Mmm_."

The speed, pressure and sureness of Kurt's hand, massaging him through his jeans is knee-weakening good. It's also the fact that it's someone else, is attracted to him, likes him, and wants to do this with him. It's a _fantastic_ feeling, and every nerve ending within him tingle as he comes, holding Kurt against him as he rides out his orgasm. He's pretty sure Kurt is smiling into his neck, he can definitely feel lips kissing softly and he turns his head, seeking out Kurt's mouth. This kiss is slower, softer, and they don't stop pressing against each other. He could get used to this.

"Wow…"

"Yeah…" he agrees, although he doesn't know if it's going to become weird now, or if they've broken down some barrier between them.

"So… think we can actually talk now?"

He laughs, muttering under his breath about feeling a little sticky, which gets a responding chuckle.

"Here, have a towel. You can go and use my bathroom. I'll be here waiting."

He pulls away, gives Kurt a shy grin and heads for the bathroom. The sight of the shower is far too tempting and he quickly turns it on, stripping down completely while it warms up. It's an in-out job pretty much, and he dries and dresses quickly, leaving his underwear in Kurt's laundry basket, which he hopes isn't too presumptuous, but walking back out there with them in his hand just seems weird. Gross. _Both_. Kurt is on his bed, lying on his side facing the bathroom door and he pauses as he opens the door, wondering if he should mention his underwear and then deciding against it.

"You had a shower."

"Uh, yeah. That's okay right?"

Kurt nods furiously.

"More than okay. Although now I feel like I should go and have one… do you mind?"

"No. Of course not…"

He waits while Kurt disappears into the bathroom, looking around the room and the lack of _stuff_ still seems really weird. There's minimalistic, and there's _this. _He wonders if maybe Kurt tidied up and was a little over zealous. He's tempted to go and open the wardrobe door but knows with his luck he'd get snapped in the act. Hopefully he'll be spending enough time here that he'll soon learn if this is a normal state of affairs. He sits on the edge of the bed, grinning on and off as he recalls what just happened and waiting for Kurt to reappear.

"Sorry I took so long, I forget how good a hot shower feels."

He doesn't say anything in response as Kurt comes to sit beside him on the bed, and the nerves are back full force, which is unexplainable really, considering what they've just done, but he guesses they're still relative strangers. Kurt smells good, fresh and damp, and he wants to inhale the scent deeply but instead inches away slightly, just incase he can't resist. Kurt's hand reaches out for his, fingers tracing lightly over the top of his hand.

"Lie with me."

He watches as Kurt shuffles around and lies on his back, patting the bed beside him in invitation. He moves gingerly, slightly hesitant but then relaxes. He's pretty sure they're not going to be doing anything. Well, anything _more_.

"So…"

"Yeah. So."

"Why medical physics?"

He turns his head to stare, unsure if Kurt is actually interested or just… well no, even if he was really bored he's pretty sure Kurt wouldn't ask, so he must be interested.

"Uh, medical physics is… well, the area I'm most interested in is in improving the effectiveness of radiology. Finding more effective cancer treatments."

"Oh." He stares at the ceiling of Kurt's bedroom, wondering if they can actually do this, talk and manage a possible relationship that isn't just based on the physical, because apparently they've got that organized already. "How do you even know about that type of job?"

"My dad is a physics professor."

"Oh. That… must have been interesting?"

He snorts at Kurt's very diplomatic tone of voice.

"Yeah, I kind of grew up with him reading me drafts of his physics text books. I guess I've always wanted to go into medicine."

"It must be nice knowing what you want to do."

"I – yeah. I guess it is."

Kurt shifts, turning to face him and he shifts as well so that they're both lying on their sides.

"You don't have to have all the answers you know. We're only eighteen."

"Yeah. Tell my dad that. He thinks I should at least have some idea about what I want to do."

With a little coaxing he gets Kurt to admit that he wants to perform professionally, be it dancing, singing or acting, he just wants to be up in front of a crowd. It sounds like Dave's worst nightmare, but he's seen Kurt perform and knows he's one of those people that thrives on it. But you have to be _good_, and he has no frame of reference when it comes to this type of thing. He wonders if Kurt has even told his dad what he wants to do, wants to ask but stops himself.

They end up talking for hours, moving and shifting every so often until he ends up with Kurt's head on his shoulder, body have splayed across his and they're discussing their favorite childhood TV programs when he hears a knock on the door and Kurt calls out, telling his dad he can come in. He goes to shift away but Kurt shakes his head, murmuring something about it being his bedroom and doing what he wants. Burt Hummel appears half-way down the stairs and looks at them in surprise.

"What have you two been doing?"

"Talking dad. Why? What did you think we'd be doing?"

His dad looks a little awkward and Dave goes to open his mouth but Kurt shoots him a look that he already knows means Kurt would be pissed if he said anything so he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

"Right. Well, I just wanted to ask Dave if he has a curfew or something. It is almost midnight and I wouldn't want you getting in trouble with your folks."

He thanks him, but also reassures him that he doesn't actually have a curfew, but he doesn't add it's because he's never needed one before. Kurt definitely seems interested in his lack of curfew. Mr Hummel just looks between the two of them again and says he's going to bed, instructing Dave to drive safe and to text Kurt when he gets home safely and he nods his head, kind of amazed at how quickly he's just been accepted as part of Kurt's life. He waits until he's gone and then turns to Kurt.

"I should probably head home. My parents might not set me a curfew, but they stay up and wait for me to get home anyway…"

"Oh, yeah, sure, of course…" Kurt agrees, although he sounds disappointed, which he knows he shouldn't feel glad about but he does. He hugs Kurt to him and places a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Come on, walk me to my car."

They make out against his car for a good fifteen minutes before the chill in the air finally starts to get to both of them despite their combined body heat. They haven't made plans to see each other over the weekend, and he doesn't want to be the first one to bring it up. Plus he already has quite a few plans this weekend. With a final kiss he heads home, and he feels like laughing the entire way. He knows he'll be grilled by his mom as soon as he walks in the door so he sits in his car for a good twenty minutes, just reliving every moment. He walks in the door and sure enough the light in the den is on and his parents are both sitting there and as he walks past the books go down and his mom calls out.

"How was it?"

"Good. Fine. His dad was there with Carol Hudson, and Finn as well… so it wasn't exactly a romantic dinner for two." He decides not to mention the period _after_ dinner. That had definitely been… _something_. He grins again at the memory.

"You enjoyed it though?"

"Yeah. Of course." He has to hold back the hysterical laughter forming in his stomach.

"Good. I'm glad. Mercedes and Lucy are up in your room. They wanted a sleepover."

"_What_? Man…" There go his plans to jerk off, because making out with Kurt for a good quarter of an hour had definitely had an impact.

"They want to hear all about it. Go on, don't keep them waiting."

He groans and mutters about parents being too nice to his friends before stomping upstairs. The single question from his mom has been easy, but he knows he won't be so lucky when it comes to Lucy and Mercedes. He's not tired, still a little too wound up to just fall into bed, but he's not exactly going to be able to relax with them there. There's comfortable, and then there's _comfortable. _He pushes the door to his bedroom open to see Lucy sitting on the pull-out bed from underneath his bed and Mercedes is sitting on an inflatable bed. They're both engrossed in something on their laptops, and he figures they must be playing against each other.

"So, you guys seriously couldn't wait until you saw me tomorrow?"

"Nope!" They both answer cheerfully and he starts tugging the sleeves of his shirt off, looking up at their uncustomary silence.

"What?"

"You look really happy."

"Happier if you two weren't here invading my space…"

Lucy and Mercedes make matching griping noises and he grins.

Yeah, he's definitely happy.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note**: If you haven't been reading Spankies in conjunction with this then you're going to get very confused, if you aren't already. In hindsight I should have just made it one fic, but that's what learning curves are for.

* * *

**PART THIRTEEN**

They all end up in his room, and there is still a little part of him that cringes about what Kurt might say and think, a larger part that tells him Kurt can go to hell, he's not about to go and change, and an even _larger_ part that is hyperventilating slightly, that _Kurt Hummel_, his _boyfriend_, is in his bedroom. The annoying presence of Lucy and Mercedes last night is now amplified a thousand times and he's trying to tell them telepathically to _get the fuck out_. It does not seem to be working. Or it is and they're deliberately ignoring him. Probably the latter.

Kurt is sitting on his bed, legs crossed and now empty plate between his knees, hand reached out to touch his and he can't believe he's half hard simply because their _fingers _are touching. He's using a pillow over his lap, ostensibly to hold the plate, but now serving a dual purpose. And when he'd put a t-shirt on Kurt had _pouted, _saying he was ruining his view. He might pass out if his blood doesn't start circulating back to his brain, and he knows it's not _that_ hot in his room, but damn it feels like a furnace.

The sit and chat, and Mercedes _finally_excuses herself to shower, coming back and Lucy goes. That's when it hits him. He needs to go and shower, and that means leaving Kurt alone in his room. Well, not exactly alone, but with Mercedes and Lucy, which isn't necessarily better. Sure enough Lucy comes back and throws a towel at his face, telling him it's his turn and he looks between Kurt and his best female friends.

"Don't believe everything they say, just… don't okay?"

Kurt gives him a slow smile which can only be described as sinful and he wants to drag him to have a shower with him, because at least that way would have some privacy. And he woke up with a damn erection he couldn't take care of this morning, although the presence of Mercedes and Lucy had been a very effective damper on his arousal. They might not exactly have been going out for very long but his body doesn't seem to care about that _at all_. He showers quickly, dresses in his usual denims and t-shirt which he brought into the bathroom with him and opens the door, billows of steam following him. There's far too much laughing coming from his room, and the door is shut and _locked_. What the hell?

"Guys? What are you doing?" He asks, rattling the handle.

The door opens and Lucy grins, eyes bright, gesturing for him to enter as if it isn't his own bedroom and he looks around. Kurt is sitting in the middle of his bed, the color in his cheeks definitely higher than before and he glances around. He's pretty sure his drawers have been opened, and maybe even his wardrobe, and he really doesn't like the creeping sensation of unease at the three grinning faces. The last thing he needs is for them to joins forces.

"What have you guys done?"

"Nothing," Mercedes and Lucy say in unison and he _knows_ they're lying. He also knows he has no chance of dragging it out of them so it'll probably be a horrible nasty surprise. His eyes flick to Kurt, who looks a little guilty, so maybe it won't be nasty. He has no idea.

They're meant to be having a games day today. They have a couple of new board games they want to try out, or expansions, and he knows Blaine, Sam and Azimio are going to be turning up soon. Kurt looks pretty comfortable on his bed and in no rush to leave, which he kind of likes, but he doesn't know whether to invite him to join them or… well, he can only ask.

"So uh, we're going to play some games. You want to hang out?"

"Yeah told me last night, and yes, I think I'd like that. At least until I have to go."

He knows there's a football game tonight, that Kurt will be cheering, and the idea of watching him is more than appealing. Hell, it's always been appealing, now it's just… _more. _He and Az go to the games anyway, they all do, although for different reasons obviously. He frowns, because he doesn't know if he actually told Kurt that in their wandering conversation last night. Maybe he can use it as a surprise. Mercedes and Lucy distract him about wanting to go and set up and then he's alone, in his bedroom, with Kurt.

"Hi," he says, and Kurt's lips twitch as if he's holding back a laugh and he cringes inwardly. His earlier confidence has seeped away somewhere, probably because his bedroom feels far more intimate, _exposed,_ than the kitchen downstairs. He feels more exposed, his superhero posters, jokey-nerd posters that Kurt probably doesn't get, photo board covered in photos from previous trips to comic-con. "We better not stay up here too long or we'll never hear the end of it."

"True. Shame. Shame about the t-shirt too. I much preferred you in just the apron."

He opens his mouth, mainly to ensure he doesn't swallow his tongue before shaking his head and smiling.

"Come on, we've got to explain the rule to you."

"Mmm. Just so you know, I have freaky beginners luck."

"Well then, I won't go easy on you."

**TLOT**

Kurt leaves well before the game is due to start, and he guesses he probably needs to eat, get to the school, change and warm up before everything kicks off. They pack the usual snacks and thermos' full of hot chocolate. It's almost like a party atmosphere at the games, and being in the crowd he knows none of them have ever felt singled out or bullied like they do in the hallways of school. They're just there to enjoy the game. Or cute asses. Or both in his case.

Their team isn't the best unfortunately, but neither is it the worst, which it was a couple of years ago. He cheers and groans along with Az, Lucy and Mercedes joining in when they're paying attention, and he notes Sam is sandwiched between the girls again, probably his only reason for coming seeing as he's not really a fan, just comes for the company. He's made them sit in slightly more obvious seats, closer to the front and towards the section where the cheerleaders sit. He's seen Kurt several times already, but he knows where to look obviously, and Kurt isn't even searching the crowd for people like some of the other cheerleaders, who are waving to their parents until Coach Sylvester snaps at them.

After the half-time show, and once the game has restarted he excuses himself and gets an eye roll from pretty much every single one of them except Blaine. He gives them the finger as he walks away, not caring what they think of him going to find his boyfriend. Which he does pretty easily, and he's actually surprised to find Kurt alone and heading for the locker rooms.

"Hey."

"Dave. You're here. _What_ are you doing here?"

"I've been at every home game since Freshman year. I like football. We're all here actually."

"Oh…" The now semi-familiar awkward silence stretches between them and he swallows, partially nervous but also amused at themselves. Kurt looks a little flushed, which he guesses after the routine he's just done is no surprise.

"Are you… expected back soon?"

"Uh… not really?"

"Good."

Then he's being dragged toward the locker room, although Kurt is only able to drag him because he goes along with it. It's not like he doesn't want to go along with it though. He lets it go so far as Kurt pushing him against the cinder-brick wall, and then he's being attacked. It feels like an attack, lips and hands and body all pressing and rubbing against him almost feverishly and he twists, grabs and turns, pinning Kurt's smaller frame to the wall.

"What are you doing?"

"I –. I'm a little hard. Um."

He frowns but reaches a hand down, and actually the stretchy fabric of the Cheerios uniform does nothing to hide the straining erection and what the actual fuck?

"Performing sometimes… turns me on," Kurt says, and he must have muttered it aloud.

"_Holy shit_."

"Yeah well…" Kurt shrugs like he's embarrassed, and fuck, he really _really_ shouldn't be. He presses down with his hand and then brings it back up, then pauses, wondering if giving Kurt a noticeable wet spot in the front of his Cheerios uniform is the best course of action. "Don't stop. Please don't stop…" Kurt mutters, so he resumes the up and down stroking with his hand. He can feel fingers digging into his shoulder, one of Kurt's arms looping around his neck and he leans forward, his body acting as a shield against anyone that might walk into the locker room. He lets his mouth cover Kurt's, kissing him and capturing the gasps and groans Kurt makes as he thrusts against him.

His own cock is definitely interested, smelly boys locker room and all, and he supposes a horny Kurt Hummel thrusting against his hand can and will override many _many_ things. And all he can really smell is Kurt, and some weird smell that might be makeup but he's not sure.

The desperate pressure and speed at which Kurt is thrusting against him makes him increase his speed and pressure, and he guesses Kurt's been turned on for a while. How does he make it not obvious in those pants? God, those pants have been a thing of his fantasies, as have the skirts really, only when Kurt's wearing them though and he feels his cock get harder and he grinds against Kurt's thigh. He can hear the rapid panting of both of them breathing in the otherwise quiet of the locker room, although there's plenty of noise coming from the game outside.

Kurt's body is almost jumping in his hands and he can't believe he's rubbing him off and he groans, knowing Kurt is close by the higher pitched moans and what he can only think of as squeaks. He isn't getting any assistance from Kurt, but he doesn't care. Not yet anyway. The novelty of this is enough, probably more than enough to make him come in his own pants.

"Oh yes, yes yes yes…" and he slows the speed right down, but not the pressure, enjoys the shuddering of Kurt's body against him and feels the warm wetness against his hand a moment later.

He's still aching and hard, his theory that it was enough to make him come clearly wrong, but then he feels a hand touching him again, softer than before and that's not going to be enough. He thrusts into it and gets a soft tutting sound as his response followed by a a gentle shove, moving their positions back so he's the one leaning against the wall again. Okay. He's okay with that. He'll probably need the extra support. Then he feels a finger run down the length of his fly and his eyes snap open, meeting Kurt's.

"Can I?"

He nods, frantically fast and he clenches his eyes shut again as he feels his zipper tugged down _slowly_, his belt unbuckled and then his underwear pulled down to his thighs, leaving his dick waving around in the air of the locker room and where is Kurt's hand? He opens his eyes again and _holy fucking shit…_

Kurt Hummel is on his knees in front of him.

_Fuck_.

"Can I?" Kurt repeats and he nods again, breath coming fast and he's not going to last long _at all._ A blow job. His first blow job. He can't faint, that's an all consuming thought for all of a second before Kurt's mouth presses at the head, dragging hot tacky lips with a delicious pull of friction and all thoughts fly from his mind. He takes in a long breath, letting it out slowly as he feels a tongue flick and press and he groans, resisting the urge to thrust because he doesn't want to choke Kurt. He wants Kurt to do this again. Many many times. It feels amazing, warm tight pressure and he can feel lips and tongue, and he wonders what it's like, to give a blow job and god, he gets to find out. Soon he hopes. So many things he's thought of and they're all crashing around in his head, telling him they might be possible and he can feel his hips jerking, too much if the hand on his hips is to judge by.

Then the mouth and lips are gone and he hears a pitiful moan and knows he's made the sound. Kurt is standing up again, hand encircling his cock before starting to pump him, hard and fast and it feels much firmer after the softness of his lips and mouth, even with the sucking, and he knows his own release is right there, right on the edge. Then it's not, it's over and gone and he's coming, his cock jerking in Kurt's hand, back arching away from the wall and _wow_. He stares at the ceiling for a couple of seconds, knowing he's probably never going to be able to be in the guys locker room without remembering this. Which could be problematic.

"I got in trouble because of you," Kurt says, voice quiet in deference to the fact that it's right beside his ear, and he feels a little nip to his earlobe and his body startles with an aftershock.

"What? Why?"

"Let's just say that having bite marks on the neck of the co-leader of the Cheerios are apparently frowned on. Fortunately Rachel had some sweat-proof stuff I could use…"

"Oh. I…"

"Don't say sorry. I'm not."

He blushes, because it's impossible to feel bad about something like that when he's pretty much just repeated it and his dick is hanging out and…

"Neither am I."

"_Good._"


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning**: Very VERY mild hints of possible future D/s in the relationship, but none actually occurring.

* * *

**PART FOURTEEN**

School feels different on Monday, and maybe it's because he now associates the gym room locker with his first blowjob, which causes almost hysterical giggling every time he thinks about it. That makes Lucy and Mercedes look at him funny, but he'd told Blaine, because he'd had to tell _someone_. But Blaine isn't an idiot, the first time they walked past he'd just looked at him wide-eyed as he realized when and where the blowjob in question must have occurred. For the first time since _forever_ he feels reckless, because he'd do it again. No wonder couples get snapped making out in empty classrooms and behind the bleachers. It would be totally worth it.

The news seems to have spread superfast, all the cheerleaders, well, most of them, smiling at him as they walk past. The jocks just nod tightly, and he still hasn't really figured out what the deal is there. He's still not sure how to act around Kurt at school, but at least he knows it's definitely not a joke. Kurt had met him at his locker, held his hand briefly before having to run to class, throwing a cheeky grin and wink over his shoulder as he ran in the opposite direction to where Dave needed to go. They have zero classes together, which is probably just as well, because even without Kurt in his class he manages to be distracted by him.

He spends his lunch hour studying and doing his homework, mainly so he has more spare time that evening. He knows he could go and watch the Cheerios practice in his lunch break (Kurt had invited him), but it's not something he really enjoys watching. Watching _Kurt_ is a different matter altogether, but he doesn't want to watch Kurt with a bunch of other people around him, not now that he knows what Kurt is like one-on-one. Plus he's pretty sure seeing exactly how flexible and energetic Kurt is will only result in uncomfortable and unwanted erections. And he'd rather avoid those if he's in a room with all the Cheerios and Coach Sylvester.

So he doesn't see Kurt for the rest of the day, not properly at least. He does see him stomping down the hall but he's not sure if that's due to a bad practice or something else. No doubt he can find out later, if Kurt feels like telling him. They have a tutoring session that afternoon and when Dave pulls up outside he doesn't even have time to pull his bag over his shoulder before Kurt is out of the house and is pressed up against him, pushing him back against the metal of his car.

"Jesus Kurt… " There's something almost desperate about the frantic movements, but outside against his car in Kurt's drive is _really_ not the place. Or the time. "No. Stop. Look… your dad is actually paying me to be here to tutor you, so as much as I'd like to make out, I can't." The progress of Kurt's hand up the inside of his thigh doesn't stop and he wraps his fingers around his wrist, moving his hand away with a little more force than necessary, annoyed. "Seriously, if you don't stop, I'm leaving." _That_ seems to make Kurt realize he's serious and he lets out a huff of annoyance, withdrawing his hand, and he relaxes. "I promise that once the hour is up then we can make out as much as you want…"

"Really? Up in my bedroom?" It's said almost like a challenge and he nods, more than ready to meet that type of challenge head on.

"Fuck. How am I meant to concentrate _now_?"

The rush of pure _want _is intense, and he does his best to ignore it; but knowing Kurt is _that_ into him that just the thought of them making out later is distracting. Although he's pretty sure something is up, he's gotten better at reading Kurt now, and this isn't quite _him_.

He sets out his books on the table and ignores Kurt's grumbling. Maybe this isn't the best idea, maybe Lucy could start tutoring Kurt instead. Although the idea of giving up this time with him… he realizes then that he could simply invite Lucy along, have her act as chaperone. Although getting rid of her once the hour is up so they can make out would be problematic. Ideally it would be good if Kurt just didn't need such intense tutoring anymore, but he's pretty sure that without it Kurt would quickly backslide. Unless he just helped him as his boyfriend…? So that he could make out with him as a reward if he got a particular concept… he frowns and knocks his pen against the side of his face in thought, looking up at Kurt's giggle.

"You have pen on your face."

"Oh."

"Let me get a cloth, and then get this over… there are other things I would much rather be doing."

He grins and lets Kurt scrub the pen marks off his face when he returns, before getting them stuck in to the biology homework as a warm up. It goes smoothly, and he can tell Kurt did some work on his own yesterday, and he wonders again if they could just start studying together, spending time together without this formal arrangement. He'd like that. They finish with math and physics, the stuff Kurt finds the most difficult, gets frustrated with the fastest, but he can _feel _Kurt relaxing, pressing his leg against the length of his with a promise of what comes next and he lets out an amused snort.

"Fine, we'll finish there. No point starting anything new with only a few minutes to go…"

"Good. Now… bedroom?"

He nods, quickly packing all his things and sliding them into his bag with a neat practiced motion before Kurt takes his hand and he's being led to his bedroom. Again. This time it actually looks like Kurt lives in the room, and he likes that. He also wants to be a bit more in control this time, not that he'll ever not want Kurt to take control, but he wants to try giving him a blowjob, although he has to ignore the flare of nerves at the thought.

He drops his bag to the floor at the bottom of the stairs, tugging back against Kurt's hand and pulling his body against his, sliding hands under the fabric of Kurt's t-shirt. He really likes Kurt out of the Cheerios uniform, the more casual and relaxed look and he feels pretty lucky to be one of the few people to be able to see him like this. He kisses him softly to start, reminding himself of the feel of the lips, teeth, tongue, all mixing with his, warm and wet. He feels Kurt's hands on his own shirt, plucking at the fabric.

"Can you… do you… your shirt off?"

He's not exactly sure what Kurt was trying to say, but he shrugs his button down shirt off and then pulls his SHIELD t-shirt over his head, his heart beating faster at the nerves at being naked, well, partially naked, in front of someone else for the first time. Everything else they've done he's been pretty much fully dressed, even if his cock was out on display. _Fuck_. If he thinks about it too much he's just going to get even more self-conscious and embarrassed.

"How do you even…" Kurt starts, and he shivers at the feather light touch of Kurt's fingers running down his arms. "I wanted to do this on Saturday, except Lucy and Mercedes would have probably objected."

"Pfft. Doubt it…" He says, words difficult to form. He means it though, his friends are weird and way too invested in his love life. Thoughts of them are gone when Kurt pulls his own shirt over his head and all he can see is smooth pale skin covering lean muscle. The sight makes him feel more self-conscious about his own size, but the scrape of Kurt's nails through the fine hair on his chest has his hands back at Kurt's waist, tightening and releasing almost like a massage. Kurt's lips on his neck have his hips snapping forward and he just _moves_, hands grasping and lifting.

At Kurt's sharp inhalation his cock twitches, fills further and _yeah_, he definitely likes that sound, wants to hear it again. Kurt's legs are wrapped around his hips, pressing their bare chests flush together, and he wonders if his chest hair feels ticklish. Kurt's arms are locked around his neck, and he's pretty sure Kurt is trying to _not_ thrust his hips at him too much, and he supposes he thinks it might overbalance them. He doesn't know if he can handle holding Kurt up for long, but he _can_ carry him to the bed. Fingers digging into the flesh of his ass cheeks he takes a step toward the bed, then another, and then he's dropping their bodies. It's graceless and they both bounce, barely escaping knocking noses but he ignores the near miss and just covers Kurt's body with his own, letting one of his legs insinuate between Kurt's.

"What do you want?" Dave asks, and he _knows_ what he wants, but he feels like it's only polite to ask, especially after Kurt's constant checking before giving him a blow job. He just wants to make them both feel good.

"Anything. Everything… maybe not right now, but, you know, _eventually_."

"Okay. Can I…"

"You don't have to ask."

He grins at that and shakes his head, he supposes he'd say the same to Kurt, it's not like they'd bring up anything wildly kinky as a first-time thing they'd want to try. It's all too much of a novelty for them right now anyway, and he really hopes it never wears off. He wants to suck Kurt's cock, or even just touch it. Feel it. He shoves a hand between them and it's awkward as fuck, his forearm twisted around just so he can run the ball of his palm up the length of Kurt's erection. Kurt's _way_ harder than him, which is gratifying and he feels a swell of confidence at the knowledge.

He pulls away so he can undo the zipper, and Kurt pushes his hips up, hands shoving his jeans and underwear down to his thighs and well… the sight of his cock, hard and full, laying against his belly, twitching occasionally into the air has his heart beating harder and faster. He really wants to know what it will feel like, wants _Kurt_ to know what it feels like, and that decides him.

His head lowers to his crotch, and Kurt smells clean, like he's maybe had a shower just before he got there or something, and probably, knowing Kurt's initial plans, he probably did. The skin is flushed a deep pink, and there's a deep purple vein… he runs his tongue up along the length, following the path and gets whacked on the nose by Kurt's erection when his hips suddenly snap upward. The action makes them both laugh breathlessly and he moves and places a hand on the jut of Kurt's hip, firm enough to hold him down if he thrusts his hips again.

Carefully, and probably too cautiously he wraps his lips around the head and sucks experimentally. He can feel Kurt's body jolt against his hand, hears him swear and he grins internally. He's doing good then. He's not ready to try swallowing, and fuck he hopes Kurt gives him some warning or something. He's more than content with just… _this._ He figures out how far he can go before he starts to gag, which depressingly doesn't feel like very far at all. He sucks, tries out different speeds and strengths, wonders how much practice he'll need to have before he gets really good, or whether it's a natural talent.

He cups Kurt's balls with his other hand, and it's getting pretty crowded with his hands and face all focused on one small area. An important area though, and he alternates between touching Kurt and himself through his jeans. He doesn't seem to be sucking and licking for very long when he feels Kurt's hands in his hair, frantically tugging and he pulls his mouth off with a sloppy popping sound that has him blushing, although he already feels overheated, so Kurt probably can't tell.

"I'm too close, come on… Pants off, fuck Dave, just… hurry."

He's tempted to say no, tell Kurt he has to hold back until he tells him he can come, bring him right to the edge and not let him come. Just the idea has his cock spurting a little precome and he's never thought about it before. He stands and strips down to nothing. It's… hot. And weird. They're naked, no intentions for anything more than just pressing their naked bodies together, at least he doesn't think so… and nope. Kurt is pulling him down on top of him, legs going around his waist and _holy fucking shit_ the sudden pressure and dragging friction against his cock feels amazing, Kurt's cock against his own and his stomach and coherent thought is overrated.

Their bodies just rut against one another, his own grinding down and Kurt pushing upwards, fingers digging into his shoulders, mouth sucking hard on his chest and '_guh'_ biting at his nipple not-so-softly. He braces his hands either side of Kurt's head, his body completely covering his, and he feels Kurt's legs drop away from around his hips, instead spreading wide, '_fuck you're flexible_', and they're both moving frantically, racing toward the same goal.

"Close, oh god Dave… so fucking…"

"Yeah, yeah, me too…"

Kurt comes sticky and warm between them, and it eases the friction between their bodies, although he likes the idea of having a slight skin burn. He pulls up and wraps a hand around his erection, meeting Kurt's eyes as they watch intently as he jerks himself off. The view of Kurt lying beneath him, covered in his own come and sweat, cock still hard, the knowledge of just how hot they make each other…

"Come, come on… come… I want to taste…"

"Fuuuckk…"

He lets his body collapse again and winces at the squelching sound and sensation of come between them, and joins Kurt in his silent laughter. God it feels good. Not just the post orgasmic high, or the feeling of Kurt beneath him, but the laughter, the sense of shared happiness.

"So, do you think that counts as cardio?"

He laughs again and rolls to the side, feeling sedate.

"I think… with a longer lead in time and stuff, yeah, it could definitely count as cardio."

"Mmm… Good. I look forward to telling Coach that I've done my hour cardio every day then…"

"Every day? An _hour_?" Kurt laughs at him but doesn't deny it and god, it might kill him…

"Do you need to go home? Do homework?" Kurt asks, handing him a couple of tissues without meeting his eyes. He accepts them and starts cleaning himself up before it starts to dry too much.

"Uh, no. I made sure I got it all done in my lunch break, so that I wouldn't have to rush home or anything."

"Oh good…"

He feels Kurt relax against him, head nestled on his shoulder, fingers trailing through his chest hair, brushing over the nipple he'd bitten, making his body shudder. He's starting to feel a little cool and he wonders if they could maybe get beneath the bed covers at least and he's just about to suggest it when he gets interrupted.

"Kurt! I'm, uh, home… just letting you know!"

"Thanks dad!" Kurt calls back, and then starts giggling again, shoving his head into the crook of Dave's neck to muffle the sound. "Oh god, I didn't shut the door did I?"

He shakes his head, and he guesses being the last down the stairs it was probably his job to shut the door, and he's glad that at least Burt didn't come down the stairs. He wonders how long Burt's been home before calling out… oh god.

"Should I go?"

"What? No! We're fine. His bedroom is upstairs, mine is down here in the basement. We did this for a reason you know. Erm… not sex. It was originally because of me playing music all the time and dancing. He can't hear me down here. A good thing right?"

He's pretty sure that that's not really the case, that anyone standing at the top of the stairs probably could hear _exactly_ what was going on down here, but would probably never admit it for fear of dying of parental embarrassment. And he'll let Kurt live in denial. For now.


End file.
